


Bloodhound

by lone_goth_kitten



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, Mobiumshipping - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lone_goth_kitten/pseuds/lone_goth_kitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yami Ishigami, the king of vampires had been at war with the werewolf alpha Atemu Sennen since he could remember. The war had lasted generations and there was no sign of it stopping any time soon. Can the young injured pup Yami finds in the forest maybe change things for the better? Mobium, mpreg, slight bashing, very detailed mention of torture and depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bloody Silver

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also on other sites and I will be updating it here aswell.
> 
> This story has some depressing parts and mention of abuse, which is why I suggest that people who have a problem with reading such scenes should avoid this story...

Blood hound

‘Thoughts’  
“Speech”

**Chapter 1 – Bloody silver**

 

It was a cold fall night, in the desolate forest. The plants were swaying in the crisp bursts of stormy winds that had accompanied the downpours earlier in the day, but had yet to leave.  
The ground was soaked in rain, which finally washed the earth clean of the pools of blood that had been left behind after the last battle.  
If one looked closely, one could still see the gaping wounds in the earth and almost smell the carnage.  
The corpses of those who had fallen were already long forgotten and each side again was thirsting for the pained screams of the other.  
The last had fallen but a few months ago, but war knows no reprieve or mercy. The next battle was coming, the only uncertainty was when.

Exactly this troubling thought had drawn out Yami from his castle in the early hours of sunset. His enemy could strike at any time and had been far too quiet as of late.

Normally a battle would happen every two to three months but now there had been silence for almost half a year. And if there was one thing he feared more during a war then assassins, it was silence.  
Silence meant a lack of information and a lack of information almost certainly spelled death.

Yami was roaming the fringes of his land, searching for any signs of trouble or an oncoming assault.  
The wind whipped through his hair and crimson cloak, as he glided through the dense trees. The water droplets from the fading leaves were clinging to his finely sculpted face as he ran.  
Dead leaves were scattered on the tainted soil, as if they were trying to cover the harsh truth of what had once taken place here.  
He did not know why, but he had to be here. He just knew that tonight, something was wrong, very wrong.

The wind was howling it’s warning to all that would listen to stay inside, yet even with the harsh wind and the angry downpour, it was just too quiet. It unsettled him greatly.  
Even in this weather there was always a sound, some form of life showing that it was still there, weathering the storm. Birds would shudder, animals would move in their dens and the sound of branches and twigs swaying in the wind would normally be there, however faint. During these dark hours however there were sounds and all, but every animal in the otherwise densely populated forest seemed to have died of despair. Not a sound could be heard from them and if Yami knew one thing, then it was to trust his instincts, and right now, they were screaming.  
The last time he had felt this way the wolves had struck down three bordering villages, leaving behind nothing but dust and decay and his almost mortally wounded best friend, Joey.  
The image of his near lifeless body, caught under a flaming beam, while the fires all around him had already burned out, leaving only, what they had thought at the time, his corpse illuminated by the eerie glow, was still burned into his mind.  
Although he was a vampire like him, some of the scars of that battle would never fade…

His steps were silent in the harsh night, while his hair swayed with the now dying rain that had drenched him and his clothing.

The dark crimson cape he had worn to show his rank was clinging tightly to his leather clad body. His silver sword strapped tightly to his waist seemed to be bathed in blood, with the way the tiny droplets of water were slowly running down its gilded sheath.  
The blade had been his saving glory during many an assassination attempt and had been the last present given to him by his father.

He remembered it to well. The way the holy dragon had shone in the moonlight when he had first laid his eyes on the curved blade. How he marveled at the way the dragons body had been etched into the blade, only for its neck and head to form the hilt. The claws stretched to its sides to form the cross guard.

His father had given it to him during the blood moon celebration, only to be murdered by a wolfen harem-girl that very night.

However as these dark thoughts clouded his awareness he wondered on into the dense forest, not noticing he had crossed into a most dangerous and forbidden place…werewolf territory.

The grievance this painstaking memory always caused him was still fresh and still tended to consume him. They say time would help him get over his pain, but time was always promising things it could not keep.

His mind swirled around how he had found his father, the hunt for the girl, the trial, but most of all the blood. The way it had painted the walls in speckled hews of red and burgundy, the droplets that clung to his fathers’ pained face and the smell. He could still smell it in the air.

He took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of a smell that was meant to be oh so sweet to his kind, but now only seemed to cause him grief, only to notice that it didn’t help, it only became worse and this time he wasn’t imagining the scent of blood either.  
The scent of fresh blood coated his senses and enthralled his hunger, telling him to find the source and make its warm essence his for eternity. His eyelids fluttered and his body shivered at the mere though in almost pure ecstasy. It had been a long time since he had had allowed himself a meal directly from a source.  
Before he could think closer on the topic his body had already taken a step towards the temptation. His mind was set on hunting down whatever was causing that scent to waft through the crisp night air.  
His eyes quickly tried to search for the quickest way to his tantalizing pray, when he suddenly noticed his surroundings…

He had trespassed on the land of the very enemy he was at war with; he was on…werewolf territory.  
Realizing the danger he was suddenly in, his senses were on high alert. The smell of blood now held something foreboding, threatening even.  
He didn’t know what awaited him up ahead, but he knew he had to know where that smell came from. Had one of his kind been dragged into their territory and been slaughtered? Was this an act of war?  
As far as he could tell the blood wasn’t from a werewolf, so that only left a few other species and considering their conflict with them, it would likely be one of his kind; possibly dying.

Yami slowly crept towards the tantalizing scent, careful to not make a sound. He slowly parted the foliage in front of him with one of his pale hands only for the sight before him to freeze his very core in shock.

Red liquid was mixing with the small puddles of water and mud on the forest floor. He couldn’t see the source clearly, but under a thick, raspberry thorn bush a single cord of the victims intestines peek out into view.

Yami swallowed down the thick bill that rose in his throat. He had seen more than enough mutilated corpses and the hideous actions of war, but it still stung him every time.  
No matter how much he saw of the deepest most despicable depths of the creatures on this earth, it as of yet always managed to harm the small part of him that still held naïve beliefs of a better world.  
It was not good for him as a leader to be affected in such a way, but he feared the day that his heart and mind were so dead to the world that they no longer would…

Struggling to control the slight shaking in his hand he carefully brushed aside the thorny branches. The red substance from the poor heap of flesh was sticking to the thorny branches and painting Yamis hands with the victims’ blood.

He was supposed to feel hatred, loathing and an endless need for revenge at the sight before him, but it was just so pitiful, that even the most wrathful part of his being couldn’t bring itself to feel that way.

Before him lay a young wolf with the palest silver fur he had ever seen. The wolf looked as if it had been painted and colored by the snowflakes themselves. The blood tainting the pristine fur only added to the grotesque beauty of the gutted youth.

Yamis heart felt like it was being ripped apart at the tragedy before him. How had someone brought it upon themselves to murder such an innocent looking being? Had it been one of his own kind? Had his own kind grown tired of him and decided to kill him on a whim?

It was no secret that the fights among the packs often ended bloody and that they often killed the offspring of those they saw as threats, so they would not later on seek revenge.  
Their king had banned such behavior, but his own people knew all too well that he was too busy with the war to enforce any of his laws.  
Rumors had it even that he had such fights among his own advisors and could not stop them.

The lack of a vampires’ scent and the claw marks, on the body of the pure being before him, seemed to prove his thoughts. Those beasts…had simply slain their own.

Yami slowly inched his fingers towards the shimmering fur. As he felt the pelt of the youth his eyes went wide at the silky soft feel of the fine hairs. He had never encountered a wolf with soft fur. All the other wolves he had fought had nothing close to the young ones fur. Their pelts had always held a slight form of coarseness, but these hairs were softer than the most expensive silks that were available. 

He let his hands glide through the silvery hairs, only to throw himself backwards at what he felt under the fine strands.

He….He was alive!

‘How can this be?! He’s practically bled out and his stomach is clawed open diagonally from one side to the other! I have to be imagining things!’ Yami thought to himself.

He went to the motionless figure and checked for any form of life that could still be left within. Upon moving his hand over the young ones heart he sighed as he felt nothing but a familiar cold, that was only reserved for the dead.  
Yami had already convinced himself that his earlier impression had been a manifestation of wishful thinking, but just as he was about to turn away…he felt it.  
A heart beat, feeble and irregular, but it was there.

The gentle face of the young one slowly twitched and moved to reveal stunning icy violet eyes. The pain in them was evident. Yami knew that he wouldn’t make it. No werewolf could survive such an injury. If left alone he would suffer for who knew how long. And if things came worse he would feel how other predators fed on him. It was only a matter of time before the scent of blood drew others near. Now that the rain had stopped the smell would spread.

There was only one thing Yami could do, and he hated it. He had always refrained from killing children and young ones, but right now it was the kindest thing he could do.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered as he softly petted its’ head one last time. Those pale eyes gazed up at him in resignation, giving in to the inevitable.

Knowing that there would be no alternative to ending things in blood, he raised his sword, determined to put the young one out of its misery.

The silvery wolf looked at the blade in slight shock, before closing its eyes, awaiting its end.

The sword was raised in his hand as he looked at the feeble creature before him. The image of those eyes as they had given up their last hope flashed before his eyes, the pain filled look the young one had given him haunted him as his hands began to loosen on the hilt, but he had to do this.

His hands tightened on the hilt; the deadly blade poised over the young ones throat. Gathering his will power, Yami thrust the point of the blade downwards at the wolf, to end its suffering forever…

 

**Hi everyone! This is my first try at a Yugioh FF. I wasn’t really sure about if I should post this or not, but in the end I decided to. I will be trying to post at least once every month, since I know how frustrating it can be to wait for months on end for the next chapter.  
**   
**If you liked it please review, since it tells me what you liked and helps me work on my writing skills.**  
**Hope to see you next chapter!**  
**-LGK**


	2. Streams of life

‘Thoughts’  
“Speech”

**Chapter 2- Streams of life**

The sound of swift steel rang through the forest, before a dull thud was heard throughout the dense trees. Gleaming metal tumbled to the muddy earthen forest floor, falling from trembling hands.

The soft whispers of life within the forest, which had been seemingly holding their breaths, were once again heard within the cold night, as Yami looked down at the nearly lifeless wolf.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, his hands and heart couldn’t bear to go through with the action of killing this young one. Especially not after seeing the sheer helpless and defeated look in his eyes.

Letting out a defeated sigh he sank to his knees, on the bloody ground, not knowing what he should do now. His only choices were to leave him here and let his body ripped to shreds by nightly predators or take the dying youth with him, but what was he supposed to do with a dying boy?  
And worse, what would his people think if he showed mercy to a werewolf?

Werewolves had been known for devouring the dead vampires or their own kin on the field of battle, leaving nothing for the families to mourn over. If the bereaved were lucky, a vampire spy would find a hand or some flesh of their loved ones to bury, but chances of that happening were few and far in between.  
He himself had lost friends in such a manner and yet, here he was...having sympathy with a wolf.

His heavy sigh danced on the wind, as he grasping for the silver broach around his neck, swiftly undoing the cape from around his shoulders with the ease of well-practiced fingers. He gently laid out the fabric over the small body before him.

The young wolf didn’t move as the soft fabric touched his wounds. Either the boy was unconscious or death was already parting his soul from his battered body.   
Yami felt his heart uncertain of what it should be feeling, as he gently wrapped the fabric around the small boy. It was already blossoming with stains of blood that seemed to bloom along the fabric, as more blood soaked its silken thread. It looked like a field of bloody roses had been painted on his cape by the most skilled artisan. It was a sickeningly beautiful sight that even Yami had to force himself to look away from.

Steeling his resolve he made up his mind on what to do with the frail wolf.  
His only relief was that if the boy was unconscious or had already been taken from this world, then he at least wouldn’t suffer from what he had planned next…

(Time skip)

Fleeting gray swished passed the dim light of a torch, hanging on the ancient walls of the vampiric stronghold like a shadow fleeing the very rays of the sun.  
Soundless steps rushed through the beige and crimson halls, like the silent bringer of death, carrying with it the promise of ill fortune.  
Within its strong arms it carried a small red bundle, from which the most tantalizing blood slowly dripped, leaving telling tales and secrets the figure couldn’t afford to be known.

Never in all of his days had Yami ever believed he would have to sneak into his own palace, like the assassins who would come for him and his advisors. All of this however made it painfully clear just how easy it was to bypass his security.  
He was so getting rid of the drunken guards he had passed by! But that had to wait for now.

At the moment he had to reach his private garden without being seen, a task that was getting harder and harder as he rushed to his goal. In his arms he held his cloak, wrapped around the small wolf he had found during his surveillance of the boarders.

He just couldn’t bring himself to kill the fragile young one and so there was only one other action he could live with, but if he got caught, it could be his end.

Yami intended to give the small wolf a proper burial, where he could be sure the corpse wouldn’t be dug up again by scavengers and other starved wolves. But the real problem was that there was only one place he could think of…his personal garden. 

And to make matters worse, he couldn’t risk being caught.

His people despised anything wolfen due to all the cruelty that they had seen on the battlefield. They wouldn’t care how young someone was, or if they were even old enough to hold a sword. As far as they were concerned, if you were a werewolf, you deserved to die.

He himself understood the resentment, as his father had been killed by a werewolf, but he knew that cruelty was on both sides.   
He had seen his own kind be just as low and cruel as any wolf, when he was leading his armies. He himself felt the need to punish some of his generals for orders they had given, that were more like genocide than warfare, but his council had stopped him. They were more than happy as long as a wolfs blood flowed.

He didn’t even want to know what they would do if they saw him burying a wolf on vampire territory, let alone in the palace ground…The few assassins that he had been faced with before would be the least of his worries.

Feeling practically hunted in his own palace he crept around the last corner leading to his study, which was the only way to reach his garden.  
Every little noise was making him flinch, as though death itself had decided to whisper him a greeting, while he felt his arms growing seemingly heavier with the white wolfs body.

With a sigh of relief he entered his own study. Unlike the rest of the palace, not a single spot of red could be found in any of his rooms. Ever since he had witnessed his father being slain, he had hated the color with a passion.

The plastered walls held a light green color that was harshly accented with the dark mahogany shelves, filled with old leather bound books, along the walls. In front of the floor length windows was a fitting mahogany desk, with a large throne like chair. Behind the chair was a small column like portion of the wall, separating the two windows, upon which was a metal shield with his families’ coat of arms; a blood red dragon curling around a diagonal sword.

The windows themselves were crisscrossed by metal bars, to make a lattice like pattern and the moonlight that was still filtering through them lit up the plush white carpet in the room.

Yami walked over to his desk and gently laid down the small wolf he had wrapped in his cape on the white carpeted floor, so he could open one of the windows, when he saw the bloody trail he had left behind. Droplets of blood trailed from his office door to where he had laid down the young wolf, harshly contrasting the white carpet that was now stained beyond repair.

Due to the pungent smell of blood he had smelled on the body he was carrying he had failed to smell the treacherous trail he was leaving behind.

‘Damned it! How in the world am I going to get rid of the evidence?! Someone is bound to see or smell it’, he cursed.

Now he really had to hurry if he wanted to get away with what he was doing. As a king he should have the power to just do as he wanted, but his council still held too much power and he knew all too well that a good part of them wanted him gone. But he wasn’t going to do them that favor.

Hurrying as much as he could he opened one of the windows and quickly turned around to grab the young one. If he could bury him before anyone found him, he could always say it was just another attempt on his life.  
Yami had already gathered the small werewolf in his arms, and turned towards the window, when he heard it…  
Sounding and resounding in his ears like the very whisper of death itself…the soft click of his office door.

As the possible scenarios played before his eyes, he slowly turned his eyes wide with shock.

There in the doorway was one of the very council members he hated most, Noah.

Noah was only a few years younger than Yami. He had been voted into the council, by bribing other council members. The vampire King knew it, but he couldn’t do anything to Noah without proof and with his luck, he would probably bribe any witnesses Yami could hope to find anyway.

Noah’s eyes swiftly travelled to the bundle in Yami’s arms, with a sick look of lust in his eyes.

“It seems the king has found a taste for the finer things in life. Finally lost your silly little aversion to blood?” he asked Yami in a condescending tone.

“I don’t kill my meals Noah. I don’t have a god complex like you”

That only got the king a disbelieving snicker. The council member strode confidently further toward Yami, making him tense. If he came any closer he was bound to notice what that the thing he was holding was.

“So you want to tell me that the thing with such tempting blood is still alive?” he asked. His gaze yet again filling with bloodlust and the need to destroy.

“That is none of your business Noah. Now why are you here?” Yami asked with a commanding voice. His patience with this man had never been good, but with the added stress of possibly being caught, it was practically nonexistent.

“Oh I think It is my business when something as delectable as that comes here”, he answered, not even bothering to act like he actually yielded to the kings’ authority.

A deep, predatory growl left Yamis throat and his eyes gained a blood thirsty glow as he hissed back at Noah.   
“I suggest you remember your place councilman!”

“My place? My place?! I think you’re the one who should remember their place, my king”, Noah answered mockingly; “We both know that you don’t really have a hold over the throne, let alone the council. Let’s see. Who has that again? Oh, yes, that’s right. I do and I suggest you remember that”

As much as Yami wanted to prove him wrong he knew he couldn’t.

He had yet to prove himself to his people and the council was so corrupt and power hungry, that even if he did manage to prove himself a worthy ruler in some way, they would still try to gain more power, or get rid of him.

Yami had failed to be an absolute ruler like his father and become a mere scape goat on an ornate chair.

“You know Yami…it would be in your own interest to do what I want. Who knows? In the future I may just return the favor”, Noah said, as his teal gaze drifted over the vampire kings form and this time it held a gleam that made Yami feel practically violated. As if that gaze alone had somehow managed to taint him, but even as his mind screamed at him to run from those malicious eyes, he held his ground.

“You may have most of the council on your side. But when it comes down to it, I am still the king. Something you will never be” Yami spat.

“Well…I tried being nice”, Noah said in a playfully wistful tone, “But if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll simply take it!”

Noah lunged at Yami whit his razor sharp claws raised high. Yami quickly let go of the bundle in his arms an fell into a defensive crouch.  
His years on the battlefield already told him he would never draw his blade in time to defend himself. He had already lost valuable time by letting go of the small wolf boy, whose bundled up form was now lying between him and his attacker.

If one thing was for sure, it was that there would be at least another corpse joining the young one on this night. The only question was who that corpse would be…

Yamis initial actions had cost him enough time that he could only hope that the first blow wouldn’t wound him too badly. His only chance now was to deflect the oncoming blow as much as possible.

He was already braced for the likely pain of Noahs claws racking over his skin…but the impact never came.

A sharp whistle like sound split the air, the very moment Yami had taken his defensive stance.

Yami felt as something passed through his gravity defying hair, only moments before the distinctive gurgle of a dying man hit his sensitive ears. He opened his eyes just in time to see Noahs wide eyed stare, as he sunk to the white carpeted floor with spasms.  
A wooden crossbow bolt was sticking out of his right shoulder, causing the white uniform the man had so favored to soak in his blood. His pained gasps rung out in the silence like the toll of funeral bells…

Yami instantly dropped down even further, using his own desk as a shield against whoever had loosed the arrow. Only one thing held his thoughts captive now; a single little word that he hated so much and yet hat been anxious for: ‘Assassin’.

Being careful to be precisely in the middle of his desk, Yami did a backflip over his desk, to get closer to the open window and still be protected by the beam holding his families coat of arm. Drawing his sword he carefully glanced around the corner, into the lush garden, that was incased in large, imposing walls.

Taking a risk he sprang into the garden and took cover behind a tree, that grew close to the window he had opened prior.

Being careful to use all his senses, he searched the small garden for any signs of his would be assailant, but as he had suspected, after the failed attempt, the assassin had apparently fled, leaving only the faint smell of werewolf and poison.

He knew enough about poison to tell from the way Noah was spasming with his last breaths that it had most likely been an arrow drenched in the poison of the Perigrina, a red flower that made the very blood in a vampires body decay on contact. There was no cure, just a slow and painful death.

He had been right. The quiet between the vampires and werewolves was just too fragile to last. There was never going to be peace between them, even if a small persistent part of him still refused to give up that feeble hope.

But those were things he couldn’t afford to dwell on now. It was only a matter of time before someone found them, and he still needed to cover his tracks. After all, it was bad enough that he had a dying councilman in his study, but that was something he could explain away with the assassin. But he couldn’t afford to let anyone else see the young wolf boy.

Quickly sheathing his sword he walked back towards his study, only to freeze in the entryway.

There before him was a sight so grotesque, that it made Yami almost hurl.

There on the formerly white rug lay the now unconscious Noah, not frothing at the mouth, with his blood seeping into the carpet. His body lay only a few feet away from the small wolf, who was still covered in his red cape, but what revolted him was not the sight of the corpses, or all the blood, but what the blood was doing. It wasn’t just soaking the fluffy carpet in a typical circular form, no. Thin lines of blood seemed to form out of the circle that was forming under Noah and they flowed in the direction of the young wolf, in an unnatural way.

The lines thickened and joined into one as the blood streamed toward the young one and seemed to now be pouring out of the dying councilman.

The red fluid disappeared under the already stained fabric of the red cape, as Yami still stood in the windows frame, unable to tear himself away from the unsettling display.

He was only knocked out of his trance like state by a sudden movement.

The wolf was moving!

How in the world was this possible? The boy was dead. There was no way he could still be moving! And yet, as the last of the blood seemed to flow towards the young, thought dead, boy, the young werewolf shakily stood.

Yami was transfixed by the sight of the red fabric slowly sliding to the ground, to reveal icy violet eyes and a fully healed white wolf.

Yamis mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just seen, but he only came to one conclusion, that terrified him more than the thought of being caught saving a werewolf.

This couldn’t be! There had to be another explanation! But as his terrified, racing heart only beat faster, he knew there wasn’t. The wolf could only be one thing…

How could he? What had he done?!

He had done the unthinkable.

By trying to aid the soul of a dying werewolf, something his kind would see as something akin to a crime, he had ended up doing something far worse…helping a being whose very existence alone was considered a literal curse; a being said to cause endless suffering wherever it went and left death and destruction in its very wake. He had brought such a being to the very capital of his people …a blood hound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of wrote the last bit at 3 in the morning so please excuse the spelling! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please remember to RnR!
> 
> In the next chapter I’ll be explaining what a blood hound is and why Yami is so afraid of them and we’ll be meeting some more characters ;-)  
> Hope to see you next chapter!
> 
> -LGK


	3. Shy loyalty

Please R&R!

‘Thoughts’  
“Speech”

**Chapter 3 – Shy Loyalty**

The ice cold feel of cold sweat trickling down his already icy skin, felt like the touch of death itself. Yamis breath was shallow, while his mind was panicking. He had been trained all his life to be able to make quick decision in dire situations, but nothing could prepare him for facing this beast.

Blood hounds were known to slaughter everything they came in contact with and were considerable opponents, no matter their size or age.

They were a rare mix of werewolf and vampire blood that had somehow formed these unstable, wolf like creatures. They were hunted and killed at birth, but it had not always been that way…

Back when the war between vampires and werewolves was still unthinkable, there had been many families with parents of both kinds, but their children were only able to become one or the other. Their offspring would either be vampiric or wolfen, they thought, but that was only until the first blood hound had been born…

When the first werehound had been born the people had been ecstatic, thinking that the child had been especially gifted and was destined to do great things and it had looked that way for quite some time, but the child was soon to show its’ true colors…

One night most of the adults had gone out to hunt for the celebration of the towns founding. Having been successful they went back, only to find everything they loved and held dear in ruins.  
The houses had been laid to waist; fire was devouring the last remnants of their prized possessions. They searched frantically for the women and children they had left in the village. 

They found them…

Bled dry.

It was obvious enough who had done it, but the townspeople didn’t want to believe that a sweet nine year old child had been able to slaughter everyone they loved, but she was the only one not among the carnage.

The town buried and mourned their dead. They were willing to continue living in the decimated town and honor their dead, but for that they never had a chance.

The very next night a monstrous wolf appeared. The few people left tried to defend themselves, but were no match for the towering mass of bestial rage they were up against. It all ended with just one heavily wounded female standing against the beast.

No one knows how, but somehow she managed to mortally wound the creature, before falling to her knees. She gazed upon the hideous thing that had killed her husband, only to see it shift and turn back into the very child she had thought lost, her own daughter.

When neighboring villagers finally came to aid, all they found was death, with a sobbing woman in the center of the main road weeping bloody tears over her dead child.

The woman told them what had happened in the town and it wasn’t long before the same tragedy happened in another town and another and another…

There was no denying it any longer. 

Werehounds were too dangerous to be left alive. At some point or another they went insane and hunted down anything with a single breath in its body and didn’t stop until it itself was killed.

And now Yami was faced with just such a beast.

The fierce gaze of the werehound landed on him as a shiver claimed control of Yami body; its ears laid back against its head and lowering its front body slightly. It looked like it was ready to jump him at any second.

Yamis hand instinctively tightened on his sword, his eyes never leaving the white wolf in the room. He knew he was stronger than the hound, but he would be dead before he could even lift the blade to defend himself.

Werehounds killed by using their speed. They inflicted lacerations and then used their magic to draw all of the victims’ blood out of their body until they were dead. Once injured there is no way to stop them from killing you; any injury inflicted on them was useless, because every drop of blood they stole healed them. On a battlefield, they were virtually undefeatable.

Even knowing he stood no chance Yami was determined to at least defend himself and maybe injure it if he got lucky. Then the others could manage to kill it. As a leader he had to do his best, for his people. Even if they would condemn him once they found out what he had done.

The young wolf slowly lifted one of its forepaws. Yami instantly answered the action by falling into a defensive mode.

The air in the room was tense as the moonlight flitted off of the dragon blade in the vampire kings hand. The harsh sound of a panicked breath broke the silent standoff. Yami made himself ready for the blow that would most likely end his life, the memories of the blood of his father splattered in the room was the last thing that flashed before his mind as he anticipated his own demise. He waited for his enemies’ move, and move it did…

The most feared and deadly beast standing in front of Yami tilted its head with the most pathetic kicked puppy look and whine that Yami ever seen or heard.

The scene itself was so heart wrenching it made him blade hand shake with uncertainty, as an intense guilt cut him, like the unforgiving claws of a werewolf.

He could do it; he could rid his kingdom of this menace and save them all. He only needed to swing his sword and end it here and now, just like he had done countless times on the battlefield. He was just going to defend his people. Even if the werehound was stable now, it was only a matter of time before it would go rampant and destroy everything it touched.

Wasn’t it better to put it out of its misery before it got that far? Before it had its paws drenched in the deaths of his people?

Now was the time to decide fate and strike, before it could, there was just one problem…what if it was a trick?

This innocent act could all be a trick to lure him in and strike him down, while he isn’t on guard, or it was real and he was forced to kill an, as of yet, innocent boy.

Yami only had a heartbeat to decide what to do and being the tactician he was meant to be, he decided on the course he had to take. For his people.

He could only play along with it if it was an act and use the closeness to strike and if it wasn’t he could use the closeness to put the werehound to death as quickly and painlessly as possible.  
He had to.

Yami ever so slowly lowered his arm and straightened his pose, waiting to be jumped while he did so. The young werehound didn’t move as he inched towards it. As he was just a few feet away its eyes made contact with his again. The soft lashes around its silvery amethyst eyes were a blackish coal and framed them in elegance. The fur on its neck stood up slightly as it seemingly flinched away from Yami, but only crouched down towards the floor more and hid its tail between its legs. The young wolf seemed to have seen the vampires intent in his eyes, but its gaze never fell.

The red eyed vampire crouched down onto one knee and started moving his hand towards the silvery animal, as if he wanted to let it sniff it. While doing so, he inconspicuously used his other hand to grab something out of his leather boot, and held it tightly in the hand that the wolf couldn’t see.

Yamis’ hand slowly drifted towards the werehound, intent on grabbing him at the back of its neck. He inhaled shallow, shaky breaths, as his hand entered biting range. The wolf could easily bite him now.

His hand was almost touching the silver muzzle of the young wolf, when it suddenly moved…

Practically already feeling the familiar, piercing pain of sharp fangs slicing into his skin Yami quickly raised his other hand that was now holding the small dagger he had hidden in his boot and made to strike the werehound, when he felt something wet on his hand…

Was it his own blood? Had his demise already been brought about? Was this going to be his last moment on earth?

Not sure if he wanted to see the truth for himself the vampire king opened his eyes only to see a slight shimmering trail on his hand, which seemed to almost glitter in the moonlight.

He'd licked him!

The young wolf looked up at him with the biggest and most uncertain puppy dog eyes anyone could imagine. Yami felt frozen in place. Stuck in between shock, over the fact that he could have already been dead and the implications of what the wolf had just done.

Yami didn’t know much about werewolves and even less about werehounds, but he knew what that gesture meant. It was a sign of utmost gratitude and a pledge to repay a severe debt. This young wolf wasn’t trying to harm him, he was practically declaring fealty!

In his shock the small wolf took the chance and shyly licked his hand again, while looking up at him uncertainly. Still to shocked to make sense of what was happening; Yami barely reacted to the touch.

This werehound had to be extremely young to not have gone insane, like its brethren. It looked near the full age for a werewolf, judging by its body size, but then such things could be deceiving.  
There was no way the wolf was faking being sane either. When a werehound lost its sanity it attacked everything, and never stopped. No thought or planning went into what it did. It was only driven by the need to kill.  
Had the innocent act been a simple ploy to make him easier pray he would have already been lying beside Noahs corpse and would be on his way to the afterlife to rejoin his father. There was no doubting it…

The one in front of him hadn’t committed the crimes its kind was bound to commit. As of yet, it was innocent.

Yami locked his gaze with the wolf; letting his hand touch the silky fur around the silvery wolfs ears. It felt soft and warm against his cold skin. It had an almost sedating effect to run his hand through the moonlight colored strands, while letting the soft body heat run along his skin.

The young one tilted his head into the soft touch and let out a soft whimper, begging yami to pet him more.

He didn’t know why, but he let the dagger slip from his hand and used the now unarmed hand to softly scratch along the back of the young wolf that was nuzzling his hand. He scratched behind the wolfs ears and watched as an almost euphoric expression took hold of the young wolfs face. The silver youth looked so much like a puppy in that moment in time, that no one in the world could possible believe he could ever do anything wrong.

It was an almost serene scene in the moonlit office…Yami softly stroking through downy fur as the young wolf gently nuzzled and licked his hand, with soft, pleased, puppy like whimpers drifted through the night air.

Yami felt calmer than he had since he had been forced to take the throne. The scent of tiger-lilies and warmth seemed to come in waves off of the fur he was stroking through with his sword calloused hands.

He could feel his tense muscles uncoil as the almost decadently soft hairs swayed against his skin and tickled his wrists, but all of the tranquility was shattered as they both heard loud footsteps and cussing coming closer towards them, shocking the vampire king back into reality.

His hands stilled mid stroke, as everything came crashing back to him. He was in a room with the corpse of one of his councilmembers, that he was known to hate, and a being that would have everybody running for their pitchforks.   
Try as Yami did, he only came to one conclusion: He was screwed.

For the second time that night the accursed door to his office was thrown open…

“Yami! Tell your stupid damned advisor to…!” said the tall blond figure that now stood in the doorway, before the carnage in the room registered with him.

The male immediately fell into a crouched position, ready to pounce on the wolf that was in his mind clearly attacking his friend. Dark blond fur, streaked with sand hues sprouted from his visible skin, as his eyes shifted from the usually soothing brown to a menacing golden hue.  
A deep growl seemed to shake the room as one predator made itself ready for the kill.

Yami wanted to step in, not wanting his friend to fall victim to the obviously more powerful werehound in front of him, but he couldn’t even utter the first syllable of his name, before he heard the ominous sound of shifting bones, signaling a finished transformation, before the blond wolf savagely sprang at the other, fangs and claws beard for the kill.

A soft whimper was heard in the next instant, as one of the combatents came to stand before the vampire king.

He had expected a blood bath, a massacre, had even been about to try and grab the werehound and restrain him, but fate seemed to be relentlessly torturing him today. He had gone from slight anxiety about the long silence from the werewolves, to enduring utter chaos in one night, and yet somehow fate had found a way to catch him even more off guard.  
After everything that had happened in the last few hours Yami had thought he couldn’t be surprised by anything anymore, but even his long life and everything that he had endured couldn’t have let him anticipate what was playing out before his very eyes, like a macabre comedy.

Here was a creature that struck fear in the very hearts of hardened warriors and ruthless mercenaries, cowering behind him for protection, while his blond friend stood puzzled before him.

Soft whimpers and sharp breaths, caused by fear, emitted from the small wolf that had obviously sought him out for protection. It was half curled up in a ball, as if waiting for immense pain, while its ears were laid back and slight shivers raked its body uncontrollably.

The blond wolf, that was Yamis friend barked and growled sharply at the white-silver wolf, but that only made him cower more. Not knowing what to do the bigger, blond wolf looked at Yami, silently asking what to do.

Yami quickly looked from his friend to the still terrified wolf behind him, and with a slight sigh turned back to his friend.

“Joey turn back, he’s not a threat”

A protesting whine came from Joey, who obviously didn’t believe that the smaller wolf wasn’t something to worry about, but Yamis emotions had been tried to often tonight to let his friend try and sway him. He sent a harsh glare towards the blond wolf, who knew not to disobey Yami in that moment. There was no reasoning with him if Yami when he decided to put his foot down and Joey knew it. That very stubbornness was part of the reason he was still alive.

Joey reluctantly shifted back into his two legged form, while never letting his eyes leave the younger wolf. Just because Yami trusted him, didn’t mean he had to.

“Why’d ya stop me?! He…”

“Joey! He didn’t harm me” Yami quickly interjected. A headache was quickly building behind his eyes, as the stress of the night seemed to finally really take a toll on him.

“You’re alone in a room, with a dead body on the floor and a werewolf in front of ya, and ya expect me to believe he didn’t want to harm ya?! He’s a werewolf for crying out loud! Their evil!” the blond practically ranted, while Yami softly rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the building pressure.

He was never one to have something as petty as headaches, let alone let them get to him, but the pain was defiantly working itself deeper into his brain. All he wanted to do was lock himself in his chambers and tell the world to go take care of itself for once, but to do that, he had to first 

“The last time I checked you were a werewolf too Joey”

“That’s different! I’m on your side and you know it! He could be a spy for Atemu for all we know!” he answered, with a clear tinge of hurt in his eyes.

Joey never liked being reminded of his heritage. He had turned his back on his own kind when his own pack had turned on him and had almost killed him. They hunted him down when he stood up to his direct alpha and lost. His alpha, his own father, had ordered the other pack members to kill him.

In his desperation he had turned to the only people he could, the very enemy he had been sworn to hate and kill, the vampires. He knew that they would likely finish the job his former pack members had started, but if there was even a slight chance of getting out of this alive, it was with them.

He had come across Yami, who had seen him injured, but not yet to the point where he couldn’t have been saved. After having killed so many other wolves on the field of battle that very hour, Yami was loath to add to the number of corpses that were already littering the ground like monotone confetti. After having seen these kind of things so often, they really had become monotone. Every dead body, no matter how mangled, torn or shredded now looked just as different to him as the leaves on a tree did, meaning not at all.

Yami had tried to send Joey away, but the younger male had stayed and begged him to take him to the vampire king. Not knowing he was now talking to the very man himself. His father had just died three weeks before and he had already taken the throne.

“If I take you to the castle it would be your death” Yami had told him, but Joey only said he was already dead, and the only thing he had left was to plot revenge upon those who had wronged him, the ones who had been meant to shelter and protect him, his own family.

After hearing the full story Yami had decided to keep Joey around, if even just so he could get information from him about the workings within the werewolf court, but they had turned into friends over time and if there was one thing Joey didn’t let happen, it was letting his friends get hurt, and as far as he saw it, Yami was running straight to his grave.

“There is no way he was sent by it” Yami said, refusing to use the name of the Werewolf king, like Joey just had.

Even before he had taken the throne Yami had been told that to call his enemies by their name was to show them a form of respect, and if it was one thing that thing didn’t deserve in his eyes, it was respect.  
“Besides” he added in a grave tone “if he had wanted to kill either one of us, we would already be dead”.

“Ha, like a half sized whelp like him could take me! I can take him any day!” Joey said while raising his fist for emphasis, which only managed to draw a high pitched yelp from the shaking ball of fur behind Yami.

Ignoring his insulted friend Yami turned his back on the wolf named Joey and kneeled down in front of the cowering k9.

“It’s ok, he’s not going to hurt you” he said, while softly running his hands through his fur again. Glassy, lavender eyes peeked up at him, seeking reassurance that what he said was really true and not just another cruel lie.

Finally gaining enough courage to move his head slightly, the young werehound rubbed its head against Yamis leg.

“That’s right, it’s going to be ok” the vampire reassured him again.

Frightened muscles skeptically unfurled to reveal the small wolfs full form, lying on the bloody carpet, giving a harsh contrast to the moonlit strands of silk like fur.

Tentatively the young one raised itself up on its legs, and rested one of its forepaws on Yamis bent leg, so it could reach his face. Ever so slowly he inched closer to the young ruler, giving him time to move away from him, all the while having its ears tucked back, as a sign of shyness.

Still consumed by uncertainty the wolf gave a shy lick to Yamis cheek bone before rubbing the same place with its head.

“What the hell!?” a shocked blond yelled, seemingly braking the trance yet again. This time however the younger wolf didn’t run and hide at his outburst but simply flinched, not willing to back down without an answer to his request.

“Do you know what he just did?!” Joey yelled again.

“He….he just…he just asked me to… be his alpha” Yami breathed, while still holding the gaze of the young wolf, who was now tilting its head to one side, in a silent question. Wonder took hold of the vampires’ heart.

Here he was, face to face with one of the strongest creatures to ever grace the earth and it was asking him, him of all people to be its leader, its protector, its guide, its alpha…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I was having trouble getting the atmosphere right. Most of the dog behavior is inspired by how my dog acts. (She’s a spoiled rotten princess).
> 
> In the next one we’ll find out who the wolf is and if Yami accepts the offer of being his alpha (^-^)  
> Reviews remind me I need to write more! So R&R please!


	4. Transforming moonlight

**Chapter 4 – Transforming moonlight**

Amethysts and Crimson locked in the breathtaking moment, as the two stared into each other’s eyes. Their blood raced through their veins, driven to move faster and harder, by the fear that had concurred both of them. One feared being rejected for the millionth time in their seemingly pathetic existence, while the other feared that his decision would bring the downfall of his kind.

Time itself seemed to be evading them, as everything around them seemed to be put to a standstill. No matter what Yami did, it would have dire consequences.

The vampire king took a shallow breath and began to raise his right hand towards the wolf, never taking his eyes off of him, weary of what its reaction would be, to what he was about to do.

His fingers touched the downy, soft fur of the werehound for the second time that night. He held the young wolf by the back of its neck, as the pure terror played out within those violet eyes.

He knew it! He should have never asked the vampire to be his alpha! He was going to reject him! Worse! He was in his land surrounded by people who were going to hurt him, just like the blond wolf had said! It was going to end just like with the werewolves! All he had wanted was a safe place to hide and when he had begged for them not to harm him, they had attacked…with a vengeance. Anyone he had ever trusted had turned on him.

It was going to happen again! Any second now the vampire was going to use the hand on his neck to fling him away from him, rejecting his request to be his alpha…

Worse and worse images of passed pain played out in his mind, spiraling into even worse scenarios of horror, his heart racing out of control; apparently trying to flee his chest and the terror that had taken a hold of him.

His breathing escalated to hysterical pants, anticipating the pain that was to come yet again that night, when he felt it…

Yami’s forehead was softly resting on his own, while he was still holding his neck in a soft, but dominating grip. The young wolf looked up at him as best he could, without breaking the contact.

The vampire had his crimson orbs hidden behind elegantly lashed curtains, while he calmly breathed in the cool night air that was streaming in from the fragrant garden.

If the werehound would have been able to cry in his wolf form, he would have been crying a waterfall of grateful tears. Relief and exhaustion played out on his face as he came to fully realize what the man in front of him had done. He had done what no other had. He’d accepted him…he finally had an alpha. 

He finally, had a place he could call home…

Yami slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with deep silvery pools of amethyst. Letting out a breath he slowly lifted his head off of the young wolfs. He had accepted the offer of being a werehounds alpha, but then again, he didn’t exactly have a choice either.

If he rejected him he could turn on his people and create a blood bath the likes of which even the current war wasn’t capable of. It was true that at some point he would go insane and go on a rampage, no matter what Yami did, but this way he could keep an eye on him and maybe stop him before it came to that point. He would rather have a danger he could predict, than have it stalking the night, just waiting to end them all…

The wolf brought him out of his reverie as it pushed against his leg, which it was still using as support, to gain more altitude and nuzzled the underside of his chin, nearly forcing him to topple backwards.

The young wolf broke into a licking and nuzzling frenzy, while the other wolf in the room was too stunned to do more than stutter incoherently.

“Ok…ok! Calm down…I like you too” Yami said, while he was trying to get the overly enthusiastic wolf off of him, only succeeding after his face had already been thoroughly licked. He may be the young ones alpha now, but that didn’t mean he needed a doggy bath…

Jumping around like a playful puppy, the small wolf was wagging its tail like there was no tomorrow, completely ignoring the werewolf in the room. It brought a seldom smile to the kings lips, as he watched such an innocent act.

Due to the war seeing children playing freely outside had become a very rare sight. The only children you saw about now were either living on the street or were orphans who had lost their parents. Knowing that he had caused the young one to be this happy, especially after what he had been through, only served to make Yamis heart seemingly swell with pride. 

It was one of the few instances where he had managed to create something, make another feel wanted, cherished even. Something he thought he had unlearned after the death of his father, for since then, he had seemingly caused nothing but bloodshed and death…

“What the hell Yams! How could ya’!? He could be a spy for all ya’ know!” Joey yelled.

Almost as if he had been hit, the white werehound froze in his tracks at the sound of the others voice. His fear of the blond instantly returned, with a vengeance.

“Joey, quit yelling. Do you want the entire castle to know he’s here?!” Yami hissed at his friend. He normally got along with the blond wolf, but on some nights he just wanted to strangle the man.

“I gave you a chance a long time ago. I could have simply killed you when we met, or after you told me what you knew. I gave you the benefit of the doubt that not all of your kind are evil and now I’m giving him that same chance.”

The words came out harsher than he meant them to be, but they were better than telling Joey the truth, about why he had really spared him all that time ago. If he ever found out, it would kill the relationship they had. He would never trust Yami again…

The king turned away from the stricken look on his friends face and turned to the whimpering silver wolf behind him. He had reverted back into the small ball of fur he had been just minutes ago, with only the very tip of his nose peeking out of the plush fur.  
Yami began to stroke the soft fur again, trying to keep the young one as calm as possible. It was more than clear to him that he feared werewolves and with having one in the room his emotions were bound to be a mess. If his emotions got to far, he could go wild, something yami couldn’t allow.

“This is different! I came to ya with info on the enemy. In the open even!” Joey countered, trying to conceal that the reminder of that night hurt him.

“I know that Joey, but he had multiple chances to kill me and he didn’t use them. If he wanted me dead, you would be talking to my corpse right now” Yami said, with a certainty that made a shiver run down the werewolfs spine.

“Ya’ can’t be serious! He’s just a pup! He’s probably too afraid of you to even try anything”

“Joey…” Yami sighed, “He’s not just a werewolf”.

He knew that he might as well tell his friend now. The second Joey knew he would yell so loud that the whole castle would know, but the chance of keeping it quiet never existed. 

A werewolf in a castle full of vampires was bound to be noticed. Even if he could hide the fact that he consumed blood, he couldn’t come up with a reason for another werewolf to be in the castle. 

He had already gone against his council and every vampire in the palace when he refused to send Joey back to the werewolf territory. He couldn’t do it again, at least not without having to give something to the council in return.

“What ya mean he ain’t a werewolf? I can smell it on him! What else is he supposed ta be?”

“Joey…he’s a werehound”

The words didn’t even have time to hang in the pregnant air that seemed to weigh down on Yamis shoulders, as he uttered those damning words, before everything seemed to happen all at once.

The color in Joeys face drained as if death itself was sucking the life out of him. He stood their almost frozen, while Yami slowly turned from him, his hand slowly sliding out of the soft fur surrounding the neck of the silvery wolf.

Nothing happened, until the scent of fresh blood filled the room.

Yamis blood…

Without a moments hesitation Joey sprang forward, shifting mid jump, back into his wolf form, his fangs bared. In the split second it took Joey to try and jump in front of Yami however, the vampire had spun around and placed his own arm in the path of those deadly jaws.

Joey barely managed to break his landing enough to not injure the arm of his closest friend, which was currently at the mercy of his own sharp, werewolf fangs.

His paws barely touched the ground, when he felt Yami press his arm into his mouth, forcing him to back away, or bite down on the offending appendage.

This kind of tactic was usually reserved for the battlefield, when an opponent had already managed to bight your arm. 

In the heat of battle, it was the only hope you had to keep your enemy from ripping of whatever unlucky thing they had managed to get in between their jaws, by throwing them off balance.

Even though Joey knew this was part of his training and that Yami had only reacted on instinct, it still hurt him to have his friend use the move against him. He owed Yami his life; heck, he even owed him almost every moment of happiness he had ever experienced in his life! He would rather surrender himself to his old pack and let them rip him apart, than harm him! 

He was just trying to protect him from that monster that was currently curled up on his lap! He had drawn his blood for heavens sake! The thing was probably draining him dry at this very moment!

Honey-brown eyes stared confused and slightly hysterical at the crimson eyed male before him. While the other didn’t move, only keeping the pressure he had on the others jaws in place. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it was enough to keep him still, since he knew that the dusty blond wolf wouldn’t act against him if he didn’t have to.

“Joey, I know what you’re thinking, but he didn’t hurt me. Ok?....He didn’t hurt me”

The tall, slightly shaggy wolf only gave him a doubtful growl, while he trained his eyes on the shivering pile of fur that was behind the pale vampire.

“He didn’t hurt me. My hand just caught on something in his fur”

That only got him a slightly louder growl, which sounded anything but convinced?

“Look, just back off and I’ll try and find what it was”

Reluctantly Joey backed off just enough so that Yamis arm was no longer in between his jaws.

The king sighed for the seemingly millionth time that night, as he saw his friend back down. They briefly made eye contact, before Yami turned toward the once again terrified little wolf, well aware that the blond wolf was tracking his every move, ready to strike at the young one if he so much as moved.

“It’s ok, he’s not going to hurt you” Yami assured, before laying his hand on the silvery pale wolf, not wanting it to attack him out of fright.

He placed his hand around the base of its slender neck, searching for whatever had cut him. At first it seemed as if nothing was there, but the cold feel of metal soon touched his fingers. Yami instantly tried to grab the thin piece of metal and take it out of the little ones fur, only to cause a pained yelp from the small youth in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to get this out of your fur”

The king moved the silvery strands out of the way, thinking that the offending object was ensnared by the young ones coat, only to feel sick to his stomach when he saw what those luxurious strands were really hiding.

There was a thin piece of metal wire sticking slightly out of the tender, reddened skin of the little werehounds neck. He could see the dark discoloration of the wire, as it sank into the young ones neck, trying seemingly to grotesquely mimic a vain, with its darkened hues.

Forcing himself to look closer at, what he could only call an atrocity, he saw that there were two pieces of wire sticking out of the irritated skin and they were intertwined, in a morbid mockery of a necklace. 

In that moment he knew what it was and felt the horror he thought he would only ever feel on the field of battle creep up on his soul again.

It was a leash, made out of wire. The cruelty of it was almost mind-numbing. Yami understood wanting to get rid of a werehound, to protect others, but torturing it?!

After seeing Yami freeze and turn a sickly green, Joey crept closer to the smaller wolf, trying to see what had made his friend react in such a way. He knew the second he saw it.

A wire leash. The sting and pain of it was all too familiar to Joey.

As a young pup his father had once forced him to change into a wolf and place a wire around his front paw, to punish him. He knew that moving would cause him severe wounds, but the other pack members had taken the opportunity to torment him while he was unable to fight them. 

The wire had quickly ended up cutting into his skin, making his blood drip to the hard cave floor, while he was helplessly tormented by those he should have been able to trust. 

He couldn’t change back without losing his hand to the wire and he couldn’t remove it either. His father had left him there for days, allowing the wire to become imbedded in his skin, while his body desperately tried to heal the wound.

In the end, when his father had finally deemed him punished enough, the wire had become so imbedded in his skin that it had to be surgically removed. 

His father, being the man he was, didn’t want to pay for something like that, so he took a knife, cut his wrist open and mercilessly yanked the wire out….

The scars from that day were still visible under the bandage he always kept around his left wrist. It was one of the lesser cruel things his father had done, but it still left a permanent mark on his soul. 

The phantom pain still coursing through his veins like the vice like grip of a silken noose, whenever he thought back to those days. 

Whoever had done this to the werehound was cruel and downright disgusting. For the wire to be this deep, it would have had to have been there for weeks, if not months. 

The memory of his own pain, made him feel sympathy for the little wolf, knowing the agony he would have to live through to get it out…

He knew he didn’t want to be there when it happened. His own stomach was churning at the mere thought when Yamis voice thankfully forced him to focus on something else.

“Little one, look at me”

The slightest twitch of the mass of fur was his only response.

“Please. I need you to look at me”

Ever so slowly the young wolf uncurled himself, while keeping an eye on Joey, while not daring to make eye contact with him. His tail was tucked firmly between his legs as he carefully sidled closer to the vampire king, seeking protection from the man he saw as a threat.

Yami carefully slid his hand under the smaller wolfs jaw a forced him to look at him. The silver ears on its head were slightly bent backwards, as if unsure if he should be afraid of what his new alpha would do next, or trust him.

“I hate to say this, but I’m going to have to remove the wire around your neck”

At the mention of the leash the young werehound bent closer to the ground. He knew that even attempting such a thing would bring excruciating pain.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but if I don’t remove it, you won’t be able to turn into your human form and it can potentially kill you if we leave it like that”

Amethyst eyes stared up uncertainly at the vampire who was trying to help him. He was his new Alpha, he knew that an Alpha should be trusted and obeyed, but the fear of even more torment lingered in his system. 

Letting someone, even his Alpha, so close to his neck, with a sharp object, wasn’t something he wanted to do. 

Yami could see the conflict in the youngers eyes. He knew the pain he would have to cause him. He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t about to let him live with the agony of having that wire in his neck. 

Joey seemed to already know that Yami would force the matter, if need be, turned away from them. He wanted to run from the room, as not to relive what he had been forced to live through, but he couldn’t risk leaving his best and only friend with an injured werehound. Who knew what it would do to him.

Giving of a slight whimper the younger wolf finally came to a decision.

He slowly moved closer to the young king and nudged the side of his chin in acceptance, before baring his neck to him in submission, waiting for the inevitable pain.

“I will try to make this as painless as possible. I may have to close your wound by licking it, but I promise I won’t bight you…is that ok?”

He only got another whimper in response, which he chose to take as a yes.

Flexing his razor sharp claws, Yami prepared to cut the young ones neck. He knew he had to be as precise and quick as possible if he didn’t want the young one the suffer more than he already would.

The vampire wrapped one arm over the werehounds shoulders, breathing in the soft, warm scent, before his talon like claws drew blood.

Quicker that any surgeon could ever wish to be, Yami had made a cut exactly along the darkened line along the wolfs seemingly delicate skin. Snapping the already weak wire he pulled it out of its hiding place with one swift motion, while he tried to stem the blood flow with his free hand.

The silvery remains of the torture device clanged to the floor, as Yami bent down, closer to the smaller male, to stop the profusely bleeding incision from bleeding further, but the sound of metal hitting the hard wood floor went completely unnoticed by him, as the sweet taste of the young wolfs blood hit him.

The taste of it was incomparable, it was like sugar water, infused with the warm taste of white peaches, decadently running along his tongue in an erotically, sinful way…

He was so caught by the mesmerizing taste, that he forgot everything around him. He was only brought back from his euphoric high by the feel of a hand suddenly touching his shoulder.

Yami instantly turned to the perceived threat, hissing as he raised his claws to strike at his foe. His first claw had almost drawn blood, when he realized who he was attacking. Joey…

“Joey! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok Yami, I should know better than to disturb a feeding vampire, but you were gonna bight him”

A guilty look crossed the vampires’ eyes, realizing he almost did exactly what he had promised not to do. It was true that the little ones blood tasted like pure heaven and the warmth of a mothers embrace had somehow been combined into one, but did he really have so little control? Was his need for blood getting to him again?

“Yami, stop blamin’ yaself. Ya just haven’t been drinkin’ enough”

The king was about to contradict him, when he felt a soft warmth touch his side. He looked down only to see the silver wolf rubbing his head on his side, while his tail was softly swaying back and forth. He couldn’t resist the urge to scratch him behind the ears as he did that.

He was glad that he hadn’t caused the young wolf to much pain, even if the effect of his blood on him was still worrying him.

“Do you think you could manage to take your humanoid form now?” 

The younger wolf looked up at him quizzically before slowly taking a few backward paces, away from the vampire.

At first nothing seemed to happen and both Joey and Yami were worried that something else was wrong, until the sound of shifting skin and bone hit their sensitive ears.

The moonlight colored fur seemed to disappear, while some of it stayed behind and began to rapidly change colors, while the four legged creature stood up on its hind legs. Paws turned into feet and hands, while muscles grew and extended into legs and arms.

Even if they had both seen this sight many times, it was still something to behold, as the small wolf turned into a full human being.

After what had seemed like endless suspense, the transformation was complete….

Standing there in the pale moonlight was a young male. His pale skin almost reminiscent of the delicate shades know to belong to the vampire race, yet inhabited by a seemingly warm glow. 

Underneath that tantalizing skin, were seemingly hidden muscles that seemed to flirtatiously show themselves and yet, not be defined enough to be seen clearly.

He was clearly underweight, but that couldn’t dim the serene being that was enthralled by the glistening blanket of moonlight, streaming through the ornate windows behind him.

His face held a gentleness to it that seemed impossible, after everything he had been through, but it was only enhanced by the enchanting silvery, amethyst eyes that were currently locked with crimson hues, stealing Yamis breath away.

He didn’t know why, but gazing upon this innocent being made the king feel inferior, as if his very soul was too tainted to even gaze upon it, let alone be near it.

The only thing coursing through his mind was an urge, an irresistible urge. He had to know the name of this beautiful creature.

Raising his clawed hand to carefully cup the porcelain pale cheek of the younger male, he gazed impossibly deeper into those violet depths.

“Tell me little one, what is your name”

In a voice, barely louder than the beating of a fairies wings, a bell like voice gave him his long desired answer.

“Yugi…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it for this chapter.   
> (11 pages…these chapters just keep getting longer and longer!)
> 
> The next one is already half done thankfully.  
> This time we will get a look at what is going on in the werewolf part of town…
> 
> See you next time!  
> -LGK


	5. Clawing hope

**Chapter 5 – Clawing hope**

Even as that word passed from the young hounds’ lips, his uncertain gaze never left the molten depths of his alpha, as if he feared that the warm and gentle touch of his hand would suddenly turn on him.  
The soft brush of a clawed thumb against his pale cheek made him turn his face towards the warm cures. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him without the intent of harming him, so long, that he had almost forgotten what the southing touch of another being could feel like.

His last memories of a loving home were like ghostly shadows, distorted by the screams of his dying kin, the glitter of silver in the night, the song of metal as it swept through the air and the chilling dance of the flames that had sought to consume him next.

He was lucky to escape that night. The one who had managed to save him however was an old werewolf. He hid Yugi away in the marshes of the werewolf territory that bordered to the land of the fay. Only for him to be hunted down and killed himself, while the young werehound, hid in the brush nearby.

That day he had to witness how his grandfather was slain and skinned, his pelt being worn like the newest fashion trend, flaunted around by his murderers, while he himself was left there to fend for himself; now the last of his pack…

And yet, the soothing touch his alpha was bestowing on him, seemed to somehow elicit a feeling of warmth, a feeling of safety even, which seemed to give the disembodied memories of his past some sort of shape. It was as if he had felt this feeling, the welcoming touch of another, before. As his eyes closed to turn into the touch, he saw a faint memory play blurrily before his minds eye.

He saw an elegant wolf-shaped figure softly lick his cheek in an affectionate way, while he was still just a pup, playing between the paws of the elder werehound.

As much as it hurt him, he couldn’t bring himself to remember what that particular werehound had looked like. He wanted to be able to, but the only memory he still had of the elder hound was the loving touches and the feeling of safety she had bestowed upon him. Even the southing scent that had once been hers was lost to him.

And yet, till the end, she had been his light, his home, his everything…she, had been his mother.

He knew the emotion the vampire king was making him feel, with the slightest brush of his callous finger tips. It was the feeling of home. He…was finally home.

A deep appreciative growl started to emerge from his throat, as he rubbed his face against Yamis hand. He wanted to show his alpha just how much he liked the caresses he was being given, but he never managed to vocalize it.

A violent pain ripped through his throat, as if his own claws were tearing apart the inside of his neck. A silent scream tried to free itself from his tortured vocal cords, but it failed miserably; dying a painful death in his throat, drowning in the young werehounds own blood.

The scent of blood violently pulled the vampire king from his trance like state, as he watched the pale youth before him open his mouth, only for a crimson cascade to pour from his lips.

“Yugi!” Yami screamed, as he caught the frail boy, who was being brought to his knees by the immense pain that was seemingly trying to choke him to death, with his own blood.

The gasping teen laid against Yamis chest, as he tried to breath past the pain. Joey came rushing over to his side, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He may not like, let alone trust the werehound, but he knew some of what the kings’ lookalike had been through and that at least gained him some sympathy from Joey.

“Hey, kid! Open ya’ mouth! I need to see what’s wrong” he yelled at the boy. He knew he couldn’t let him bleed like this. They were in a castle full of vampires for crying out loud! And the kid was starting to smell like a blood sucker buffet!

To immersed in pain to even hear what the other wolf had said, or even register his closeness, Yugi thrashed against Yamis hold on him. The feel of his own blood running down his throat at an alarming rate brought him into a state of panic. He was bleeding to death!

“Yugi! Yugi! You need to hold still!” Yami tried to yell, while trying to hold down the flailing youth, without hurting him.

The young werehound didn’t even hear his Alpha at this point. His heart was racing, fighting to get blood through his system in its panic, but only making him bleed out quicker.

Joey saw how Yami was struggling and decided to step in. He let his claws sharpen, turning them into deadly tips. Without hesitation he dove in, targeting the young ones throat. If the kid wasn’t going to listen, then he needed to make him submit by force, in his opinion. The only problem was that Yugi wasn’t going to go down easy.

The second the hand closed around his already constricting neck, the werehound struck out at his assailant, his claws running along soft flesh. The skin stood no chance against the razor like blades that doubled as the young wolfs fingernails. Foreign blood spilled onto Yugis body, like the first drops of rain. But it wasn’t just the blood of the older Wolf, no, it was blood he knew, he knew that scent. It was Yamis'.

Broken from his panicked haze, Yugis frightened eyes turned towards the injured vampire. There upon the kings’ face were three deep slices, dripping blood down on him, while his alpha still held him in his arms. Despite his lungs screaming for air and the racing of his frantic heart, a cold fear gripped his very soul. He had hurt his alpha!

During all of this the young werehound didn’t even notice that his own throat had been cut by Joeys claws. Yami raised a hand to his wounded cheek, before looking at the crimson fluid that remained on his hand. A single drop of blood painted a path down his pale wrist, before it perilously dived towards Yugi, hitting the center of one the wounds Joeys claws had left behind.

The vampires’ eyes followed the tiny droplets path, only to see the place where it had landed return to perfect, unmarred porcelain white. His own mind didn’t register his next actions, as he took his blood covered hand and smeared it across the young wolfs wound and under his touch, the injured skin stitches itself back together again. As he watched the sick display, a terrible thought crossed his mind. He knew he didn’t have time to think, so he simply let four little words pass from his lips.

“Yugi, drink my blood” 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Meanwhile in the Werewolf haven…

Atem was pissed. Royally pissed. 

Servants went running when they even caught a whiff of him in the area. A deep growl heralded his presence and that anyone not fast enough to run away, should bow down in submission.

For the third time that week he had been challenged by some wannabe, upstart, for his position as Alpha. Needless to say the fools’ blood was now painting the otherwise gray stone walls of the main packs palatial caves.

The palace itself had been clawed out from the very mountain range it was situated in. Labyrinth like halls housed the werewolf nobility, while the normal packs were scattered across the land.

It didn’t really matter where they were, he ruled over them all, they bowed to him, or so he had thought. It was blaringly obvious that the idea itself was a farce.  
He had grown up being told he was some kind of supreme ruler that no one would ever dare question, but he knew better now. He had been challenged so often in his short time as ruler, that it was seemingly becoming common place to question him.

In earlier times questioning the supreme alpha alone would have been unheard of, treason even! Voicing the intention alone would have warranted a death wish. You respected and honored the supreme alpha without question, but that tradition seemed to have died with his father.

Now when someone said they wanted to challenge Atem they were cheered on by bystanders and even encouraged to do so, while others gave them tips on what to do. As if anyone stood a chance against him. He was ruler, and if they didn’t want to acknowledge that he was a good ruler, when he was ruling them kind and justly, then he would rule them by force.

He would be drinking blood in heaven with the devil himself, before he let anyone destroy what his family had built. His ancestors had managed to combine all the waring packs under one rule, ending the mindless bloodbaths and feuds hat threatened to end their kinds existence. He wouldn’t let anyone end his families rule, but he would definitely end anyone who tried.

Another deep growl ripped from his throat, as he violently opened the carved stone double-doors to his chambers.

It was a rather rustic set, but then again, it wasn’t like this a few years ago. Most of the things he had held dear were destroyed by people who were trying to get to him, or had fallen victim to his own rages. Now he preferred to have as little as possible, so people would have next to nothing they could take from him.

He desperately wanted to just fall into his fur covered bed and breathe in the calming scent of the forest, that the downy furs still somehow seemed to harbor, but he knew he couldn’t. He still had the blood of his enemy dripping off of him, and his bed was one thing he refused to taint. It was the only place he still had peace anymore.

Atem walked over to his bathing chamber, only to stop in front of a full length mirror, when he saw his own reflection. He looked like a hardened warrior from the amazon who had just gotten back from war.

His wild hair was specked with small patches of blood, making it even more unruly than usual. His lightning like bangs were partially sticking to his sweat soaked skin, while droplets of blood and sweat still beaded down his bronze, sun backed skin, leaving trails of ruby liquid that almost looked like tribal paintings in their wake.

His chest was on full display, as he was only wearing a dark brown pair of skin tight leather pants and a beaded necklace for the challenge. The beads were colorfully painted in vivid shades of blues, magentas and turquoise, while they were interspaced with fangs, hanging from a thick leather band around his neck. The neckband itself was an heirloom of his family. Every fang represented one of his ancestors, while each bead was the respective color of each of their eyes. 

One day, when he died, his fang would also be put on this necklace, if he managed to actually have an heir before he died that is…  
But those were thoughts for another night.

He let his deep magenta eyes fall to the four deep slash marks marring his otherwise flawless skin. They were running a dangerous course, from the left side of his neck, all the way down to his heart, where he had the symbol of his pack tattooed on his skin, a flaming sun. Blood was seeping from the old wound, making the sun look as if it were melting into a crimson waterfall.

He brushed some of the blood off of his toned chest, with a look of disgust on his face. It was an old wound he had sustained when he had fought and killed his fathers' murderer years ago. Yet even after so many years, the wound would still open no and again and weep his life essence, like the cursed red tears of a fallen angel. No one knew why it happened, but it was seen as a weakness. A weakness his people seemed to be tolerating less and less.

The fool from a few hours ago was testament to that.

‘It wasn’t enough that the idiot had to ruin the celebration of my birth, but he had to cover me in his disgusting blood as well? It’s the first time I didn’t have to spend the anniversary of my birth on the battlefield and they ruin it with a stupid challenge!’

He didn’t want to dwell on that thought though. He would have rather been on the field than at home, even if it was a terrible thing to say, but at least there he had clarity. On the battlefield he knew who was friend and foe. 

At his own home he had no such luxury. 

Everyone had some kind of motive, some agenda they were following and trying to use him for, or were plotting against him. He actually craved battle, because he felt safer there, than he did in the company of the other blue blooded wolves.

Atem stripped off his shredded, dark brown leather pants, while flinching, as the fabric rubbed against an angry gash on his upper left thigh. A lucky shot on his enemies’ part, but seeing it only made the alpha more furious. He was the Alpha; he was supposed to be infallible! Yet every day he was finding more flaws in himself.

Growling at his own thoughts, he let the torn leather fall to the floor and set his treasured necklace on the small wooden vanity table beside the full length mirror.

Standing there in all his glory, he could see how the claws of his newest challenger had managed to cut the inner side of his thigh, when he had tried to free himself from Atems grip during the fight. His attempt had been in vain, but it still irked the werewolf to no end.

He would need to clean the wound before it began to fester.

Atem walked the few paces to his private indoor hot spring, as if he were unharmed, refusing even in the privacy of his own bedchamber to show that the injury actually hurt him. Grabbing a small towel from the rack besides the ledge of the oval shaped spring, he slowly sank into its warm depths, feeling all the stress in his body try to unravel.

The warm, milky water helped to sooth his muscles, while washing away the evidence of yet another senseless fight. He breathed in the warm scent of the minerals in the water, as he rested his head against the rim of the pool. 

Above him there was an eye carved into the stone ceiling, with elegant swirls flowing from the intricate design. (Imagine eye of Horus). It was the eye of the wolf god, who protected all werewolves that ran free in his forests, a symbol that was also tattooed upon the supreme alphas skin.  
It was drawn on his left biceps, with thick bands encircling his upper arm, seemingly holding the eye in place, in a deep brown that was normally associated to henna tattoos.  
The mark was supposed to protect him from harm and so far it had done its job. He just hoped the wolf god would continue to watch over him in the next battle.

He knew it had been too long since the vampires attacked and he himself had been wary of taking action, due to the constant conflict he was having to deal with within his own ranks. The silence had worn on so long that even his soldiers were becoming restless and were beginning to plot their own little raids, thinking he wouldn’t find out, or care.  
Atem however didn’t want to risk going on the offensive just yet.

So far the vampires had never let a things be for so long. It was true that the last episode of the war had ended in a draw, but he knew better than to expect those blood suckers to just let it rest. There was a reason they hadn’t started anything and he needed to find out what it was, fast.

There were only two possibilities and neither of them were good. Either they were planning something big or they were having problems and Atem was missing his chance to strike a devastating blow at his enemies and thusly his chance of ending the war and any question of his ability to be the leader of the werewolves.

He doubted they were having problems, since he knew that the little king they had on the throne was a puppet for the vampiric council and the guy had little to no ambition to change it. The council had him right where they wanted him, so the chances of them having internal disputes were next to none.

So the only other conclusion was that they were planning something and he needed to know what.

Dipping beneath the surface of the warm water, he washed the last remnants of the fight from his hair, before stepping out of the large hot spring.

The water cascaded down his well-toned body onto the cool stone floor, while the soft steam of the water seemed to play around his feet. His wet hair hung down his back, while a few strands clung to the sharp curve of his jaw and hung in front of his piercing, feral eyes. With the markings painted upon his skin and the water caressing his bronze skin, as it rippled to the floor, he looked more like an ancient water god, rising from the depths, than the wolfen ruler he truly was.

Atem absentmindedly towel dried his hair, before tying it into a messy ponytail with a strip of roughly cut leather. He tied another towel around his waist and slipped the symbol of his family back over his head. 

Though the average werewolf tended to be rather loose about their clothing standards, he still felt uncomfortable with the idea of walking out of the bathing chamber without any form of clothing. He had been surprised a few too many times, by lusting females and males, in his adjacent bedchambers to not have learned his lesson.

After grabbing a pair of pants from the dresser next to his bed, Atem went to the entrance of his chambers, where he knew one of his guards would be. He could feel the strain of the day and the lull of the warm bath he had just taken getting to him, but he still had one thing he needed to do and time could be of the essence.

Opening the doors he stepped out, only long enough to give the man his orders.

“Get me my head spy, now”, he ordered in a deep grow that sent the man running as if a group of vampires were coming to suck him dry.  
Stepping back into his rooms, Atem didn’t have to wait long for the knock on his door, signaling that the man he had summoned was there.

“Enter”

“You called for me”, a dark, masculine voice asked, as a cloaked figure entered the alphas private chamber. His features were covered by the black, heavy fabric of the hooded cloak that the man wore, held together by a small circular, golden broach around his neck. The only thing visible was a small glimpse of a dagger belt that was tied around the figures chest.

“I want you to find out why the vampires haven’t attacked yet and what they’re up to, they have to be planning something and I want to know what. I expect you to have those answers within the week”

“It will be done, alpha”, the mysterious figure answered with a bow.

The man before him was one of the few people Atem knew he could trust. He trusted him, but only for one reason. This man would never betray him, because Atem had the life of his lovers in the palm of his hand and he wasn’t afraid to use them against the spy, and he knew it.

With a silent nod Atem sent him away, to begin following his orders. Silent as a ghost the cloaked figure turned and left to begin his life threatening mission of infiltrating the vampire court, his cloak billowing ominously around him as he moved. 

As he closed the heavy stone doors behind him, a small strand of silver hair peaked out from underneath the cloaked figures hood, while Atem just stood there, knowing full well that he could have just sent the man to his death…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for this chapter! Hope you liked it enough to R&R. 
> 
> Next time: Find out if Yugi will drink Yamis blood and find out a troubling truth.
> 
> I am currently holding a poll on what my next story should be, even though I want to finish this one first, but I want to have the next story actually done before I start posting it, so I don’t make you guys wait longer than necessary. (This one has more than 20 chapters plotted out, so it will be awhile till I do a new ff).  
> -LGK


	6. Healing grace

**Chapter 6 – Healing grace**

“Ya can’t be serious!” Joey yelled, still holding his bleeding cheek.

Yami didn’t listen as he tore into his own wrist with his fangs, leaving behind a mess of torn flesh and a powerful stream of blood, pumping from his veins.

He tried to force his wrist into the werehounds mouth, but Yugi turned his head away, refusing his alphas blood, even in his pain driven state.

The vampire king had had enough of the young ones refusal. He grabbed Yugi by the jaw, in a bruising grip, forcing his mouth open and letting his own blood drip into his mouth.

Yugi tried to push the arm away, but the blood loss had already weakened him too much.

As the thick liquid rolled off of Yamis wrist and fell into the young werehounds mouth, his eyes fell blissfully closed. His small hands grabbed the offered arm and pulled it close, letting the sweet, red fluid fill him. The pain in his neck slowly subsided as the ambrosial warmth covered the inside of his abused throat.

During all of this Joeys face painted a perfect picture of abject horror. Fear was dancing in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold, as if any moment now the werehound wouldn’t be satisfied with just his friends’ wrist anymore. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up on their own.

His instincts were telling him to get out of there.

Joey shook under the strain of seemingly trying to force himself to stay put and not leave Yami alone with the threat in the room, while the smell of his own blood wafted to his nose like a sick fog. Even though he was putting pressure on the slash marks on his cheeks, the blood flow wasn’t stopping. 

Thin rivulets of blood were decorating Joeys arm as they added to the already present bloodstains on the formerly white carpet.

The sound of Yugi lapping up the blood filled the room, while Yami watched in amazed alarm as more of his blood poured out of his wound. It should have closed by now, but the blood was still flowing strong, too strong.

He tried to pull his arm out of the grip of the young werehound, only for Yugi to pull the arm in closer, not letting go.

Slight panic came over Yami as he noticed how strong of a hold the seemingly weak wolf had. If Yugi didn’t want to let go of him, he would have to possibly seriously hurt the boy to free himself.

Just as Yami was beginning to wonder if the young one had lost control over himself, Yugi opened his eyes…

The formerly amethyst colored irises were overwhelmed with a metallic silver color; the only trace of the once beautiful color that remained was a pastel hue around the rim, which only seemed to intensify the silver color.

Where the eyes once seemed warm and inviting, they now only held a creepy feel that had Yami bighting back a whimper of his own.

They seemed to be burning his very soul with a mere glance.

Even Joey was instantly terrified. His every base instinct was telling him to run from the more powerful predator in the room or submit.

He had thought he could take on the small wolf when he had first seen him, but right now he was pretty sure he would have been dead.

Yugis gaze shifted to meet the crimson gaze of his alpha, while he slowly moved his head back towards the wound he had been feasting on.

The young werehound let some of the still oozing blood collect in one of his hands, while he still kept Yami in his sight. 

The vampires’ instinct to fight of the obvious threat before him was starting to kick in. Even if Yugi had asked him to be his alpha, it could have all been a ploy and he was now using it against him. 

He wanted to move and maybe go for the blade in his boot again, but with the werehounds gaze locked on him, he was almost helpless. He would be dead before his hand even managed to touch the hilt of the blade.

The young wolf slowly raised the appendage he was holding hostage towards his mouth.

Yami was already flinching, awaiting the pull of his blood being sucked from his flesh. His eyes closed in inner horror, when he felt something wet cross over his wound…

Shocked he opened his eyes only to see Yugi licking at the seams of the torn skin, as if he were cleaning his wound. The king was about to try and pull away again, but the werehound moved away from the bloody buffet long enough to let Yami survey the damaged arm.

There, where Yugi had licked the wounds, the same spectacle was playing out as it had on the young werehounds wound. Tiny specks of skin seemed to stretch out towards the respectively other side of the wound and pull both sides of the wound together, closing it up tightly. Within seconds there wasn’t even a sign that there had been any damage to his arm at all where Yugi had licked it.

He wasn’t trying to drink more of his blood, he was actually healing him!

Yami had no idea a werehound could even do something like that. From all the stories and tales he had heard he thought werehounds were creatures that could only destroy mindlessly. And yet, the young one in front of him was proving him wrong yet again.

Yugi tilted his head back towards the wound, asking if his alpha would allow him to heal the rest of his wrist. Still somewhat under shock, Yami gulped and gave a shallow nod; watched yet again, as the rest of his skin turned back into its former pearlescent perfection.

When Yugi let go of his arm he put his now free hand on his alphas chest, leaning in towards his face.

Yamis eyes were still peering into those silver eyes, while the young wolfs lips were coming ever closer to his.

The king harshly inhaled a shaky breath, unable to get himself to move away. They were only mere inches apart; their breaths playing an intricate dance in the barely existing distance between them.

Just as they were about to touch, Yugi tilted his head to the side, so he could heal the marks on the vampires cheek.

Yami exhaled the breath he had been holding, confused by the feelings the action had evoked in him. It…it felt almost like disappointment… 

The vampire king felt how unstable the young one was in this position, as he shifted to one of the lower cuts on his cheek and wrapped an arm around him, to steady him. A soft blush colored his pale skin, but then again, who wouldn’t be if they had this beautifully naked creature in their lap?

As the young werehound was finished with his task, he nuzzled the underside of his alphas jaw, trying to apologize for the harm he had caused. He once again had that impossibly potent kicked puppy look on his face, but with the now silver eyes, it didn’t hold quite as much cuteness in it as it had earlier that night. The former pitiful look now had more of a hypnotic note to it…

“That was freakin’ disgustin’”, the older wolf said.

The king looked over to Joey, who still seemed to be incapable to comprehend what was going on. He still had a look of disgust painted on his face from watching Yugi lick up the blood as if it were his first taste of candy. A slight greenish tint to his skin was even visible in the pale light of the moon.

“He was healing me Joey”

“I know dat! Doesn’ mean I gotta like seein’ it! I mean that was friggin’ gross”

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you. The way the mark on your face is looking he’s going to have to do the same to you”

“Aw hell no! No way I’m gonna let him lick my like dat!”

“Yugi can you heal him without licking him?”

A thoughtful and somehow impossibly pouty look crossed the werehounds face as he tried to come up with a way to do what his alpha had asked him. After harming him he didn’t want to give him any more reason to throw him out. He may seem willing to overlook the incident now, but he doubted Yami would let another mistake go so easily.

He slowly climbed off of Yami and walked over to the older werewolf with short unsure steps. Noticing the cautious steps, the vampire stood up and walked behind him; giving him silent reassurance.

Yugi stopped in front of Joey, who inched away from the younger wolf. He really didn’t want to be anywhere near this kid.

The silver eyed wolf stood up on his tiptoes and looked closer at the wound he had accidently inflicted with a thoughtful expression.

“Joey, I think you need to let him see your cheek”

“I told ya Yami! No way am I gonna let him lick me. It’s just not right. He aint no pack a’ mine. The healers can take care of it”

“Joey…move. hand. now.” Yami ordered.

The werewolf slowly removed his hand, while staring down the other wolf in the room, as if the stare alone could keep him at bay. The silver eyes took in the damaged skin and torn muscles that were now visible within the gaping slashes. Licking the wound closed was out of the question, as the werewolf would probably fight him and he wouldn’t stand a chance against him if it came to a real fight, but it was the only way Yugi knew how to heal others…

Watching as his alpha and the werewolf were bickering back and forth a sudden idea came to him.

Acting upon it in an instant, Yugi spit into his blood free hand and used all of his speed to quickly smeared Joeys cheek with it, before instantly hiding behind Yami for protection. 

The older wolf barely registered that anything had happened, until he saw the werehound hiding behind Yami.

“Hey! What the hell did ya’ just do?!” he growled at the smaller teen.

“He healed your cheek”

“What da ya mean he healed it?!”

“Touch your cheek”

Joeys blood stained hand returned to his shredded cheek, only to find a smooth layer of skin now covering the prior carnage. The werewolves’ eyes widened for the fraction of a second, before a fierce growl tore from his throat.

He lunged towards the younger wolf, sidestepping Yami and lifted him up by his neck. The blood Yugi had collected in his hand splashed against the wall, due to the hard impact.

“How dare you lick me!?! Filth like you‘s no pack of mine!” Joey growled out viciously.

Yugi closed his eyes tightly, too afraid of the werewolf to do anything, let alone contradict him. His breathing, what little he could still do, was no more than petrified tiny gasps.

A cold sweat brock out on his skin as the foul taste of bile rose in his mouth as his stomach seemed to want to flee from his body in terror.

Out of nowhere a clawed hand came up and grabbed the enraged werewolf by the back of his neck, yanking him off of the small werehound, who fell to the floor in a frightened, heaving mess.

Before Yugi managed to fight of the daze he was in from dropping to the floor a chilling growl rang through the room that made Yugi want to put his tail between his legs, even if he didn’t have one in his human form…

“You will not harm him” 

There, with an almost lethal looking grip on Joey, was a furious Yami, fangs protruding from his full lips, with sharp claws, threatening to pierce the delicate skin of his preys’ neck, while his crimson eyes seemed to glow in bloody murder.

Where the once gentle vampire was, was now one of the most imposing figures alive; a true king.   
Joey froze at the grip on the back of his neck like a pup, who was being picked up by its parents. He instantly whimpered and turned his head to the side in submission.

Joey was acting on what little he could do and the only thing that came natural to him as a werewolf. Problem was that the vampire wouldn’t necessarily see it as a surrender on his part, vampires didn’t really do the entire submission thing, but it was the only thing he was taught to do in a situation like this, to maybe save his skin.

He had never seen Yami so dominant before. He would normally be resigned and passive, but seeing him right now would have most alpha-wolves submitting. By the wolf god he was terrifying.

Forget the werehound; Yami was the one he should really be afraid of.

“You will apologize to him now”

With slightly panicked eyes and with what little breath he could get under the unyielding grip of the king Joey quickly followed the order without question.

“I…I’m sorry!”

“Good”

Yami let go of him and let his friend stumble away from him, as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Only once he looked like he was back to normal again Joey gathered enough courage to finally state a question.

“Dude! What the hell was that?!”

“He didn’t lick you Joey. He simply used his saliva to heal your wound by putting it in his hand and smearing it on your cheek”, the king tried to state calmly, ignoring the werewolves question.

The vampire knew perfectly well why Joey had reacted violently, but here it was out of place.

For werewolves licking was an intimate thing that was reserved for only the closest pack members. Doing something like that outside of the pack or letting someone else do it to you, was considered conduct worthy of a traitor or a slut, since it often initiated courting between two wolves. Both were brands that no werewolf ever wanted to carry and getting rid of them was almost impossible.

But Yugi hadn’t crossed that line. In fact, he may not even know what licking someone meant. True, he had been found within the werewolf territory, but it didn’t mean he had also picked up their customs. He may not even know the first thing about pack behavior. Then again what did he know about Yugi?

“You mean he smeared his spit on me?!!” Joey asked in utter horror, before he started to wipe at his cheek with his sleeve, as if something poisonous was on it.

Ignoring his friend for the umpteenth time that night Yami looked behind Joey at the young werehound, who was currently looking at him like he was the greatest hero in the world.

The boy looked around 13, but it wouldn’t be the first time that he came across someone who looked older than they really were. In his mind he couldn’t be older than 9, since that was when all of the others of his kind had gone insane and had to be dealt with. The real question was how close Yugi was to that age…to being put down.

Yami walked over to the young werehound and knelt down in front of him, so he could look into his eyes, when he noticed their color. Somehow they had turned back into the beautiful amethyst color they were before. He wanted to ask about them, but he had more important answers he needed to get answers to.

“Yugi tell me, how old are you?”

The younger opened his mouth to answer, when an uncertain look crossed his face and he looked up to Yami, hoping he would understand what he was worried about.

“You’re afraid that you’ll bleed again aren’t you”

A quick nod was enough of an answer for him.

“I want you to try; if you start to bleed again I’ll give you more of my blood”

“What! You just gave ‘im a heck of a lot of your blood!” Joey protested.

“I think he needs blood to heal Joey…It’s true isn’t it Yugi? You can’t heal yourself without someone else’s blood” Yami asked, silencing his currently really annoying friend. He knew it was out of loyalty, but sometimes Joey needed to learn how to simply hush up for once.

With an astounded look Yugi nodded again.

“Ok, so now Yugi, try and answer me”

Yami was ready for just about any response he thought he would get to that question, but what he heard let him feel the cold touch of death on his heart…

“I…I’m sixteen”

16…..16….no, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t be sixteen, there was just no way! He just couldn’t be! 

Every werehound had gone insane by the age of nine. How in the world was this possible?!

His own mind was trying to reject the information it was receiving, but doing that while the very proof of it was crouching right in front of him was something even he couldn’t do.

16!

As he finally started to digest the information, a sickening thought crossed his mind.

If Yugi had managed to stay sane all this time, then what was to say that some of the other werehounds couldn’t have managed the same? Yami himself had killed werehounds for fear that they would later turn into wild, incontrollable beasts. He had killed children, children who could have been innocent…

With a shaky voice, Yami asked another question that could shatter his very being.

“Yugi…do you know other werehounds…who are teenagers?”

Yami lifted his gaze back to the young werehound, with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

He could live with the countless lives he had taken on the field of battle, the blood of both the young and old warriors on his hands, but children? They were a totally different matter.

Yami had only ever managed to sentence the two werehounds that were brought to his court to death, because he thought that would be a more merciful then slowly loosing oneself. 

He had not raised the blade himself, but as a king, everything the executioners did, was his doing as well.

If that wasn’t true, the information alone could destroy him.

He awaited the answer that could change everything, as the decisive word hung in the air like a lead weight…

“…Yes”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for this chapter! Next time: See what Yami does about what he just learned and read about the spy getting back to Atem with troubling news…
> 
> Please R&R!   
> It tells me I’m doing something right!  
> -LGK


	7. Bearing fangs

**Chapter 7 – Bearing fangs**

Dread and a pure, unprecedented sense of self-loathing took a hold of Yami. Looking down at his shaking hands, he could almost feel the stickiness of the innocent blood he had spilled in the past and smell the sweet aroma of it in the air.  
Blood was supposed to be a wonderful and tantalizing sent to any vampire, but it just made the vampire king feel sick. Even without having tried it, he knew that the images of those who had died under his command or due to the fact that he hadn’t done anything to save them would haunt him the second he closed his eyes.

He himself hadn’t seen most of them, but the mirage of his faceless victims was already tormenting him in his minds eyes. The wails of innocent children were resounding in his ears, drowning out anything around him; even the tormented beating of his own heart, as it raced to escape the truth of what it had just heard.

Yami felt someone shake him, but he couldn’t bring himself to react.

Just how many people had died, due to a simple prejudice? How was he ever going to look the parents, who had lost their children, in the eye, let alone the very werehound before him?

Yugi had already suffered unspeakable tortures and had probably been hunted and forced to run for his life. 

Had Yami known what he was, when he was still injured and weak, the vampire would have killed him without remorse.

He had been so close to killing the young werehound and he never would have known just what terrible things he had let happen.

Even if he was loath to admit it, a small part of him wished he had never come across the tri-color-haired beauty, because then he could have continued to live on as the puppet king he was, none the wiser to what was truly going on.

Now he would have to act, there was no way that he could let this go on. His hands were already tainted, but he couldn’t stand by and watch it continue now that he knew. He would have to change the laws regarding the way Yugi’s kind was to be treated and to do that he would have to fact the council…

In all his time as a so called king, he had only ever truly stood up to them in regards to Joey. He knew they had probably only agreed to let the werewolf live among them to make Yami shut up and let them run the country again.

Most of the council was still made up of members from his father’s time and they had way to much influence for Yami to openly confront them. 

He would need a clever strategy to bend them to his will and get his way, but being ever the clever strategist he was, the vampire king already had a plan. 

It was wicked, devious even and left a foul taste in his mouth, but if he played his cards right, he could get what he wanted. They would never see it coming…

Finally reacting to the blond wolf who was trying to get his attention, he ripped himself from his own little world and looked towards the small werehound in the room, who was giving him the look of a confused puppy.

“Yugi…you know that within this land and the werewolf territory your kind in supposed to be killed on sight?” he asked, carefully gouging the youngers reaction.

A hesitant nod was his only answer, as the now fearful silver wolf took a slight step backwards.

“I want to change that, but I will need your help to do it... Will you help me?”

Yugi had clearly heard the slight undertone in his voice, telling him that whatever the royal had planned would probably not be something he would like, but with a hesitant nod, he chose to agree with his alpha.

“Good…I will need you to…”

 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Meanwhile, with a certain spy…

The constant thought of the lovely vampire he had left back at his den kept him calm, as the white haired spy crept his way past the magical security around the enemy lands.

Years of careful and almost crippling training had made him into a careful and precise weapon in the hands of the supreme alpha. He had surpassed his peers long ago and was now the one training the next generation of spies, or as he liked to call them, the next people who would get their lives f****d up.

If he hadn’t shown so much promise and lethal talent in his younger years, Atem would have never chosen him as his head spy, or felt the need to hold his loved one’s lives over his head at every turn; but it was too late to regret that.

It was only due to his occupation after all, that he had met with his vampire mate in the first place…

He hated having to leave him in the main werewolf haven, but at least his other mate could protect him if anyone decided they couldn’t stand the small vamps presence. He was part of the royal guard and would be more then able to take out a few disgruntled fur balls. 

Now all he had to do was get back to them.

The white haired figure could already see the outline of the stone castle the blood suckers decided to reside in. 

A foolish choice if ever there was one in the werewolf’s mind. Caves were far better to defend and they held less chances for attack from someone like him, but they apparently loved their prissy lifestyle more than their lives, or they were just that stupid.

This would be the tenth time he jumped the stone walls and snuck in through the office windows of their supposed king.

It was no secret that the council was the real master behind the atrocities that happened on the battlefields and the raids that always managed to start the war up again. The vampire king just didn’t seem to have the power to do anything or didn’t want to and no one had the guts to overthrow him.

If the guy was so weak he couldn’t rule his people, then he shouldn’t be on the throne, in the spy’s opinion. 

If Atem were weak he would have been replaced long ago, but the royal blood suckers seemed to be content, as long as they weren’t bothered by the lowly people’s cares.

The way the spy was able to sneak past the unsuspecting guards and by the odd sleeping cat in the gardens was almost too easy. 

The ease of it would have unnerved him, if it hadn’t been so easy before.

How the little puppet king managed to stay alive so long was beyond him…

In a flash he was within the thick branches of an evergreen bush, which the vampires had cut into some needlessly fancy conical tree, giving him a clear view of the illuminated windows he had used to invade the castle so often.

Through the open glass panes he could see a bloody corpse, sprawled out on the tainted carpet, while three shadows were dancing across its lifeless form.

The sound of whispers drifted towards the concealed figure, who used his superior hearing to try and make sense of the jumbled tones and rustling in the room.

“Joey, I want you to get rid of the body. I don’t care how you do it, but make sure that no one finds him. I can’t risk the council finding out he was killed in here. They could use it against me and try and blame Yugi for it” he heard the voice of the vampiric leader.

“Wha?! How d’ya expect me ta get rid of a body covered in blood?! This place is full of vamps if ya haven’t noticed” one of the shadows answered him.

The spy had to suppress a growl as he heard that particular voice. 

Joey was the son of one of the more influential tribe’s alphas. Most of the wolves had thought the vamps had kidnapped and tortured him for information before killing him, but apparently that hadn’t been true.

Now it looked like he had defected to the blood sucker’s side. 

There was no way Atem was going to like this or the fact that this little piece of information had been missed for so long.

It explained how the enemy had managed to make such devastating blows to their defenses, after the kid had gone missing. 

Due to the intelligence the kid had obviously given to the damn high brows, the werewolf side had ended up losing a good amount of soldiers and if there was one thing the alpha couldn’t, or better, wouldn’t handle, it was defeat.

A short silence followed as the one who had given the order seemingly thought over what the traitor was saying.

“Yugi…you wouldn’t be able to get the rest of the blood off of him would you?” the voice came again, this time addressing the other shadow in the room.

The person in question didn’t give any answer, but judging by the movement visible on the office wall, the person moved closer to the corpse.

As the concealed figure watched intently, he saw a hand come out from behind the safety of the beam, that was obscuring his view, and touch the cold flesh of the fallen vampire.

For the first few seconds nothing seemed to happen and the man crouching in the tree thought that the person would try and undress the figure to get rid of most of the blood, but then he saw something far more macabre play out before of him.

Dark strands seemed to lift themselves off of the soiled corpse and the formerly white carpet, like snakes that were being charmed by the tune of a flute.

The almost nonexistent heartbeat of the spy seemed to halt entirely as he watched the almost black tendrils dance and sway towards the pale flesh of the person he had yet to see.

Only very few beings could draw on fluids that were incased in fabrics and the like and only two of them could use their vile magic on blood.

A blood sorcerer and a werehound…

Both were bad news. The one was a vampire or human who had given him or herself to dark rituals that demanded copious amounts of live sacrifices and the other was an insane abomination of nature that needed to be killed.

If this was a sorcerer, he needed to find out what he looked like so he could get one of the hidden assassins in the palace to get rid of him. They couldn’t risk a dark sorcerer on the battlefield. The thing would just use its powers to devour the injured and fuel its power that way and use the blood to conjure up disfigured monsters to fight for it.

The vamps must be pretty desperate to be making pacts with such disgusting creatures.

With a foul taste in his mouth the concealed figure watched as the blood appeared to sink into the skin of the would-be sorcerer, before it released its hold on the dead body, leaving behind a pristinely clean corpse and white carpet. Not a drop of blood was left anywhere in sight.

“Yuck…tha’s just grouse!” the traitor wolf said. That statement however didn’t seem to get to good of a resonance, as he added “What? It is!”

“Just get rid of the body Joey” an exasperated voice said.

The shadow that had formerly been near the corpse moved towards the blood sucker in the room and seemed to curl up into the side of the crouching vampire, judging by what he could see on the wall.

‘Just how sick are these people?!’ the spy though disgusted.

Blood sorcerers always smelled like death and ground bones, he didn’t even want to imagine what they smelled like up close and the vamp was cuddling it?!  
The spy could already tell that the crawling feeling underneath his skin, at the mere thought of it, wouldn’t be leaving him for a while…

The only shadow not currently snuggling up to another moved towards the corpse, finally coming into view. 

The blond traitor stood with his hands on his hips, looking skeptically down at the body of the turquoise haired male.

“Well, here goes nuthin’” Joey sighed, as he dragged the cadaver right past the tree the spy was in.

It was only due to the magic the spy had stolen from a fey that the sandy haired werewolf didn’t smell the scent of his own kind lurking in the greenery.

He knew he had to be careful and keep an eye on the traitor that was dragging the dead man around directly under him, but the black dressed figure knew that he couldn’t risk not getting a glimpse of the sorcerer, so he focused back on the dancing shadows in the office.

Whispers could be heard from the direction of the two occupants, but they were too low for even his wolfen ears to pick up. 

Only the words war, weapon and council could be distinguished among the unintelligible mess of sounds and the spy wasn’t even sure if he heard those words right.

In the background he could hear the blond shift and the distinct sound of tearing flesh and bones being crushed could be heard in the otherwise almost silent garden. As far as he could guess the traitor was taking the body apart so he could dispose of the body parts separately.

It wasn’t a bad idea. After all, who would really wonder too much about another dead body during a war, especially if the person looked like he had been mauled by the enemy? It would be a perfect reason to launch an attack on the werewolves again. 

Just another thing the spy would have to warn his alpha about…

“I know you don’t like it Yugi, but I don’t really have another choice. It’s the only way I can make it to where you and others of your kind aren’t being hunted anymore… Will you do it?” the voice of the vampire king said, drawing back the attention of the hidden man in the garden.

He couldn’t see what had happened, but apparently the sorcerer accepted as the next person to speak was the vamp again.

“Then I need you to change back for me”

The spy had no idea what the vamp meant. Sorcerers couldn’t change their form, which was why they could always be distinguished by their corpse like appearance. Even if they had once been able to shapeshift they all lost that power once they give themselves to the back arts. So just what was he getting at?

Intrigued the spy silently shifted a little closer to the scene, only to almost give away his presence with the sharp intake of breath he just barely suppressed at the chilling thing he saw next.

The shadow of the smaller person convulsed and contorted in what to anyone not of shifter origin would have seemed excruciatingly painful and unsettlingly unnatural, but to the concealed figure, it was a sight he knew too well.

In moments the shadow of a small wolf was standing where the non-vampire had once stood.

He had told himself moments ago, that the being who had worked the blood magic couldn’t be the one thing that was even worse than a blood sorcerer, but the proof was undeniably there and adding the words he had managed to hear earlier, it painted a gruesome picture…

The vampires were conspiring with werehounds and were probably planning to use them in the war against the wolves!

He believed in his alpha, but even the spy had no idea how they were supposed to wage war against those monsters! 

Right in that instant, he honestly wished it had been a sorcerer in the room. Heck, he’d even cuddle a group of them if it meant not facing the monster in the vampire kings office!

“I’ll have one of the servants get the council. We should probably get to the council chamber first. I don’t want them to gang up on you the second they see you” the vampire voiced.

With hesitation the cloaked man in the garden thought out his less than good options.

Even he couldn’t get into the council rooms without prior preparation and trying to do it now would only serve to get him killed, yet if he didn’t get as much information as he could, then Atem would probably be the one to kill him in a rage… 

With a barely noticeable shift, he made his decision. He would be taking his chances with the enraged werewolf…

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Back with Yami…

By the time the odd duo managed to make it to the council room, Yugi was reduced to a terrified mess, standing next to the vampire king, who at this point could have doubled as a wooden plank.

He so wanted out of this. If his conscience would allow him to back out even a fraction of an inch, he would turn tail and run. Facing the council was among the most terrifying thing he could think of outside of the battlefield.

Yugi was doing his best hide under the ornate, red plush throne that Yami was sitting on. The vampire king could feel the tremors of the young werehounds body coursing through the mahogany wood as he tried to get some semblance of calm from the cool feel of the gold encrusted gems that were littered along the armrests beneath his hands.

He had just managed to not look like the embodiment of a deer caught in in the scope of a hunter, when the heavily carved doors were unceremoniously thrown open.

In strode the most pompous vampires Yami had ever been unfortunate enough to have to deal with.

They all sat down around the banquet table before him as though they were the rulers of the place. Even if Yami had to begrudgingly admit to himself that they were just that, even if they didn’t have the title to prove it.

The first to speak was an elderly vampire with flamboyantly colored robes that starkly contrasting his long, silver hair.

“Yami-boy! Why did you call us?” the silver haired vampire asked in an annoyingly joyful tone.

“Who cares? We have better things to do than listen to whatever he has to say. We have a country to run” another interjected.

“And where the hell is Noah?” one asked.

“Who gives a damn? He’s probably drunk somewhere with one of his lovers. This can’t be anything important anyway” yet another vampire answered.

“Exactly! Did you even look at the time?! It’s near sunrise! Unlike you we actually work during the night and don’t sit around waiting for the next time to wave around a sword!” one of the younger men yelled, accusingly.

This was how it always was. When they weren’t talking about him as though he wasn’t there, they were telling him what a lousy king he was. It was just another way to make it seem like they were doing him a favor, instead of hogging the power.

“I called you here for a reason” Yami said, not letting a flicker of fear lace through his voice. Inside his every muscle was constricting in his back, forming a painfully tight knot, while his arms were seconds away from visibly shaking.

“Get to the point! We have a war to wage!” a turquoise haired male yelled at him gruffly, unimpressed by the show of determination.

“If you would be silent for a minute, Dartz… you would know that I have a means to maybe end it” Yami almost hissed back. His anxiety and patience were being overtaken by years of annoyance and having to stomach the disdain he received from these men on an almost daily basis.

“Ha! The only thing you’re good at is waking your sword around on a battle field. Leave the tactics to the people who actually know what they’re doing”

“You forget your place!!” Yami yelled, finally having enough from the arrogant man.

“My place!? My place!” Dartz fumed, standing up so fast that his chair hit the ground behind him, cracking on impact.

“If we left the kingdom to you we would all be dead or ruled by those barbaric heathens!” he screamed, while almost jumping up the steps towards Yami in a blind rage.

The white robes of the council man waved wildly as he advanced on his king, his hand raised to grab the monarch he was supposed to loyally serve. 

His hand was only inches away from Yami’s throat, when the warm breath of a ferocious, growling beast sprang forth from underneath the throne.

Sharp claws dug into the white fabric around Dartz’s shoulders, while warm, hot breath streamed across the man’s neck from in between razor sharp fangs that were ready to strike him down permanently.

A deep, threatening growl resounded though out the room. The skin raising power behind it made the very essence of just about anyone quiver in fear. 

Standing on top of the immobilized vampire was Yugi in all his werehound glory, bearing his deadly fangs, ready for the kill at a moment’s notice. 

No one threatened a wolf’s alpha and got away with it!

The other men in the room stood; ready to defend their fellow member against the apparent werewolf threat, even if they would never raise a finger to save Yami.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you” Yami said, with a certain amount of satisfaction clearly ringing in his voice as he looked down at Dartz.  
The man was among the worst of the bunch. 

He was always making him out to be an incompetent fool, who only cared about fighting, even if Yami hated every second he was forced to hold his father’s blade.

Even when he had first tried to take the throne, they had told him he was doing everything wrong and would never get it right.

To say that seeing one of them on the ground before him didn’t give him a slight thrill, would be a lie.

“Get this thing off of me!” the turquoise haired male screamed, trying to free his arms from under the silver wolf’s claws.

His comrades continued to move forward, ready to attack the four legged assailant.

“He’s not a thing” Yami snarled “He’s a werehound”.

With the simple utterance of those words, the once so determined councilmen had a sudden change of heart and froze in their tracks. 

Even the pinned male was suddenly too terrified to retaliate.

Standing up himself and moving to where Dartz could see him, while he was laying unmoving upon the cold stone floor, Yami looked down at him and asked: “Are you ready to listen now?” 

Even if his kind always prided themselves in being more civilized as the werewolves, they still felt the rush from dominating others and the thrill of power. Right now, both sang within Yami as they rushed through his very being. 

It was a tantalizing thigh that had driven lesser men to do unspeakable things, but he wasn’t going to be one of them, no matter how much he wanted this particular nuisance out of his and his people’s lives.

An almost imperceptible nod was the only answer he was give, as the vampire seemed too afraid to do much more.

“Yugi…come here” Yami said.

The silver wolf however didn’t listen. 

He leaned in closer to the utterly terrified man, baring his lethally sharp fangs at the man’s neck, while his hot breath promised pain to come.

The other men in the room tensed, fearing that the beast was out of control and would strike them all dead at any moment.

Just as even Yami was beginning to wonder if the young werehound had lost control, the small, claw tipped paws pushed against the councilman’s shoulders, effectively making him jump off of the man.

The click of claws against the grey stones resounded in the otherwise silent room, as Yugi pawed over towards Yami.

“Come” the king said, before walking back towards his throne, in full confidence that the younger male would follow.

Once he was back in the gaudily decorated throne, he felt a shy lick on his hand, before soft fur was rubbed against it. It was a clear plead for praise, if ever there was one.

Ignoring the still shell shocked council; he turned his attention towards the silver werehound and scratched him behind his ears.

A smile threatened to concur Yami’s face as he saw Yugi’s tail wag in excitement at being petted. The younger’s amethyst eyes closed in bliss, while a pleased, almost grunt like tone came from the werehound.

“You…you tamed him…” one of the council members whispered, sounding as if the fear, caused by Yugi’s shier presence in the room was still having a hold on him.

“No, I didn’t tame him” Yami answered.

“B-but…he listened to you”

“That’s because I’m his alpha”

“But werehounds don’t have alphas. They’re uncivilized, insane beasts!” the silver haired councilman stated.

“And that is where you are wrong… That is where we have all been wrong” the king stated, as the heavy feeling on his heart settled in his throat, “Werehounds are just like werewolves when it comes to that…and they don’t all go rogue as we have thought”.

“What do you mean they don’t go rogue?! Those things are mindless killers! You saw what he almost did to me!” the now standing Dartz yelled indignantly.

“Name one wolf that wouldn’t attack someone threatening their pack” Yami countered calmly.

“We all have heard the stories Yami. How they go rogue at a young age and murder senselessly. Countless blood lines have been extinguished due to them. Just because he listens now doesn’t mean he won’t go rogue. They never last past their ninth year before they succumb to madness”, the silver haired councilman interjected.

“Pegasus… even if I didn’t correct you before, it is still ‘your highness’ for you. And, for your information, there is a way to keep them from going insane. We just didn’t know that till now”

Yami himself didn’t know how to keep them from turning into ruthless beasts, but the council didn’t need to know that, now did they?

“That’s wishful thinking! There’s no way you could have pulled something like that off” Dartz accused.

“I not only have managed it, but I have proof” Yami added with a clear self-satisfied smirk. He had them right where he wanted them and the council didn’t even realize they had walked right into his trap.

“And where is this so called proof?!” he demanded, while still eyeing Yugi like a wild animal that was going to jump him any second.

The werehound in question however was too busy rubbing his face against the vampire rulers hand to even notice.

“The proof is right before you Dartz. The boy you see next to me is sixteen”

The only sound that was heard was the harsh intake of breath by the disbelieving men, before the shock rendered their voices useless. 

Even Dartz, the most outspoken of the bunch was silent, while the color white took ahold of his already pale skin.

Taking advantage of his little moment of triumph Yami decided to make his fatal blow to any form of opposition they could come up with.

“We have been killing off innocent people, who were simply sick, just because we didn’t understand what was wrong with them. And while we were doing that, we were also killing one of our greatest assets in the war”

“What do you mean?” Pegasus asked.

“You were terrified of just having one werehound in the room; now think how the werewolves will react faced with an army of them?”

One could almost see the little cogs in their heads turning, oiled by the thoughts of werewolf blood being spilled by the gallons.

“But we have been killing them off! There aren’t enough left!” one of the other council members despaired.

“Do you really think so highly of yourself?” Yami asked “There is no way we have killed all of them. Any parent worth their blood would do just about anything to keep their child safe, no matter what they were. There are more of them, just in hiding. If we undo the order to kill them on sight and give them a place to run to, they will come to us and will willingly fight to keep their new home safe”

Wild whispers were passed between the older vampires. Skepticism was clear in the hasty glances they shot Yami’s way. 

Just as he had been unwilling to believe it before, they were now faced with the devastating truth about how they had killed so many innocent lives. But that wasn’t what was on their mind.

This could win them the war. It would be an ultimate defeat of their arch enemy, but it also had a downside.

If they allowed this, they wouldn’t be able to get rid of Yami at will. In a war, no one would be surprised if he were killed after all, but after a glorious defeat of their enemy?

That would raise more than a few eyebrows.

It was no mystery to him that he was only alive so the people had someone to blame if the council did something wrong.   
He was their little scape goat and wasn’t meant to have any power, let alone any opinion. Having an opinion could make him a pain in their side and make his life that much shorter.

But they couldn’t deny him now. The apprehensive looks towards Yugi were enough of a clue to the fact that they were afraid of him. As evil as they themselves were, they probably thought he was going to sic him on them.

It took a while for them to finally come to a conclusion; all the while Yugi was watching them, while Yami was trying to inconspicuously read their lips.

Clear reluctance was in their body language as Dartz stepped forward to speak for them.

“It seems that you have for once done something useful. We agree to repeal the law regarding killing the…werehound” he stated, while almost spitting the name of Yugi’s kind, “ we will start beginning to plan using this boy in our next campaign”

“I object” Yami said, while keeping his demeaned as level as he possibly could.

He knew this was coming, but he had to prevent them from using Yugi as a weapon, even if he himself had proposed to do it. The boy had been able to survive this long under horrible circumstances. He wasn’t going to let him suffer through more, if he could help it.

“What?! You insolent little child! You were the one to suggest it in the first place and now you want us to just let him sit there instead of using him?!” Dartz yelled outraged.

“Do you honestly think that parents will take their children here, if they know that they will be used as mindless weapons? I am simply proposing to have him be a symbol for now. If we keep him in the palace we can make the other werehounds believe that they can gain rank with us”

“You want to keep that thing here!” the turquoise haired councilman yelled and took another step towards his king, only to stop in his tracks, as another ominous growl came from next to Yami.

“Yes Dartz. I want to keep him as my guard. You know that it’s a high position and it would protect me from more assassination attempts. You know how often they have tried and since I have no heir, it would be devastating for the kingdom if I died…”

That statement was a gamble, but it was one he was determined to win. Having Yugi as his guard would force the boy to be near him at all times, thusly keeping him out of the grasp of the council, but it was also dangerous.

Yugi could be used as just another tool to get rid of him. He would be a perfect victim to pin the vampire kings murder on if the council so desired it.

Yami was always in danger of being deposed or being ‘taken care of’ by the council. It was part of the reason he had refused to seek a mate. After all, any mate would just be another person who would potentially kill him and if he did have a child, that child would be the perfect puppet for just about anyone.

Dartz was almost fuming inside, judging by the red color that was mixing with his still unusually pale skin, painting him in an overall dusty pink. 

“But you can have anyone as a guard. Why take someone who is probably inexperienced? Besides, we don’t know how loyal he is. He could be working for the enemy!”

“I’ve known him long enough to know where his loyalties are Dartz and besides, any regular guard can be taken down by a good assassin, but how many assassins do you think it would take to kill a werehound? He would be a perfect guard and as your king, I deserve the best guard we have do offer, don’t I?” Yami asked, though it came out more like a snide comment than a real question.

A slight twitching took a hold of the older vampires jaw. He was trapped and he obviously knew it.

Denying Yami the werehound-guard now would show that he didn’t care about the monarch’s safety. It was something that could get dangerous for him.

“Well…if put that way, we could use him as a guard…it would look good and the people would be more at ease” he tried to back paddle in an almost laughable attempt, while he looked at the other members of the vampire council. His face looked caught half way in between a scowl and the most fake smile Yami had ever laid his eyes upon.

The other men in the room hesitantly nodded as Dartz started throwing them nasty looks.

“As that seems to be settled, I’ll let you get back to work. Have a restful day” Yami said before standing from his ornate throne and walking down the multiple steps that raised it above the rest of the floor.

“Come Yugi” he called before leaving behind a dumb struck council, with a smile on his face.   
But then again, he had every right to it, his plan had worked out perfectly and the council had never seen it coming…

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Back in the werewolf caves…

Atem was pacing back and forth inside his rooms, impatiently awaiting the return of his spy. The man had been gone for the better part of the night and the sun had already risen past the tree tops of the forest surrounding the haven.

‘What is taking him so long?!’ the alpha thought, raking his clawed hand through his unruly hair.

The man usually never took this long and he was the most reliable one Atem had at his disposal. 

If the man couldn’t find out what was going on, then nobody could. 

It would be even worse, if he got captured. The guy was mated to his captain of the guard and if he died, the guy would need to be replaced, since he would most likely be too grief stricken to do his job.

The supreme alpha was ready to start breaking something in his own frustration, when he finally smelled a familiar scent outside his chamber door.

“Come in” he called , wearing an angered look upon his face that told anyone who saw it to get straight to the point of whatever business they had with him, or suffer the consequences.

In seconds a black clocked male was kneeling before him, his head tilted to the side in submission. The freely flowing fabric around the werewolf gave way under the power of gravity, revealing a pale, stern faced male, with sharp brown eyes.

This was anything but a good sign. Atem knew the man was proud and though he was loyal, he wouldn’t show submission unless it was absolutely necessary. If the white haired male was doing it now, it could only mean one thing…bad news. 

“What did you find Bakura?” the dominant wolf asked with a growl.

“The vampires are going through drastic changes within their ruling circle. One of their council has been killed tonight by the hand of their king as it seems…”

“What else?”

Atem could clearly tell that the otherwise confrontational spy was trying to avoid telling him something.

The spy visibly swallowed and crouched down lower towards the floor, looking as if he would bolt at an instants notice.

“They have a new weapon…” he stated, before he went quiet again.

His usually tentative patience already gone, Atem decided he had waited long enough and grabbed the man by his collar, lifting the man of the ground like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

“Tell me” was all he growled at the apprehensive male.

“They-they have a werehound” he breathed out, under the almost suffocating feeling of his own cloak constricting around his neck.

The words had barely left Bakura’s mouth, before he felt the grip at the base of his neck tighten in warning.

“Tell me you killed the thing” the tri-colored male ground out.

All Atem could feel was the pure fury coursing through his veins, at the mere mention of such a vile creature even existing. 

He could sense his fury pool into his eyes, as they turned into a deeper shade of purple and how the golden lines that appeared within them seemed to be forged by the very rage inside of him.

“I couldn’t he was with the vampires ruler and a traitor” the other werewolf said.

“You let that thing live?!” he yelled, completely overhearing the mention of a traitor. He was too focused on the desire to destroy the perceived threat to his kind to even notice anything else.

“I wouldn’t have been able to kill it! I would have only gotten killed myself”

“So you place your life above the life of your pack? Is that it you coward?! You should have given your life without a second thought to save the rest! Who knows if we’ll ever get another chance to attack that thing outside of a battlefield!”

“If I would have died I wouldn’t have been able to warn you and we wouldn’t be able to do something about it you idiot!” the other male hissed back, apparently deciding that the submissive act was only going to get him into more trouble.

It was a terrible misjudgment. 

Blinded by anger, Atem slammed him into the hard floor underneath them, making Bakura spit up blood that poured out of the side of his mouth.

Within less than the blink of an eye, the alphas fist impacted next to the spies head. The collision of flesh and carved out stone was so harsh, that cracks scarred the grey material.

Atem panted hard as he visibly saw his entire world shatter around him.

The vampires had a werehound, a beast that was almost impossible to kill and they were going to probably use it to wipe out his kind! 

If he didn’t find a way to get rid of it, losing his title would be the least of his worries. 

But what did he have that could face such a beast?

Nothing.

His entire pack was facing extinction and there was nothing he could do!

Horrified by the realization he stayed frozen above the white haired male, who was watching him as if he was waiting for another attack.

Atem’s breath became labored as he saw everything he held dear dwindling away, all because the damn blood suckers had made a pact with a monster.

There had to be a way around this. There just had to be.

“Do you know what it looks like?” he asked, in the most calm voice he could manage, considering the circumstances.

“I couldn’t make out his face…but it has pale skin and the thing was very close to the vamps ruler. The thing was cuddling with him. He’ll probably be around him the whole time. So we just need to look for someone we don’t know close to the guy” Bakura was quick to add.

Glaring at his dismal chances, Atem stood, dragging the spy with him, before he almost threw him in the direction of the door.

“Get out” he growled, in a demanding voice that would have lesser men running to rescue their very souls.

Without a moment of hesitation the spy left the room, closing the doors behind him, before he started to cuss out his alpha in such a colorful language that even Atem didn’t know the man could muster.

Something like that wouldn’t be tolerated under normal circumstances, but right now he had other problems to deal with.

Atem ran his hand down his face, trying to get a grip on his own racing thoughts that were chaotically rushing around in his mind, though he would never admit it.

He was the alpha, he was supposed to be the strongest and protect his pack against anything, no matter the cost, but now it seemed, it was going to cost him his life and his death would be in vein.

No one else stood a chance against such a beast and he knew that he would die in a direct fight with it. He couldn’t even try and go after it with a group of warrior. The only thing he could trust anyone else to do was run from the thing as if the hounds of the underworld were after them, which in this case they might as well be…

But what other choices were there?

Pacing the now cracked floor yet again that day, he mauled over his own coming demise and countless war strategies he had either learned or been forced to invent on the battlefield.

None of them promised a happy ending.

All of them ended in death and immanent destruction.

He was close to resigning himself to his early grave, when the fates seemed to have pity on him.

Just as the sun had reached its highest peak, a sudden idea struck him.

It was underhanded, disgusting and downright atrocious.

The slightest thought of it made him want to gag, but he forced himself to think about it as he felt his own body want to recoil every single moment that he was even considering the idea.

As frantic as his mind tried to find a way out of the path that would undoubtable lead to his own damnation, there was no other alternative.

Determined and with the taste of bile on his tongue, Atem sat down and started to set his plan in action. He needed to do this despicable deed, for his people, if for nothing else.

Even though he would most likely spend the rest of his days trying to wash away the irreversible taint it would cause on the very core of his being…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: What could Atem be planning? Devious plots and more characters await in the next few chapters!
> 
> Yay! Finally done. I had a small bout of writers block but I got over it now. Hope you enjoyed and please R&R!


	8. Tender Fangs

**I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It means a lot to me that you guys took the time out of your day to write a review!**

**Sorry also for being freakishly late. That nasty thing called life managed to catch up with me. (bows down in disgrace).**

**Since I have been asked multiple times in reviews if Atem, Yugi and Yami are going to end up together; this story is going to be Mobiumshipping. I just like to take my time and build a real relationship between my characters, instead of just making them jump into bed together.**

**I know I said that you would find out what Atem is planning here, but due to chapter length and story flow, you will only get some hints. (And I honestly love it when you guys try and guess what will happen next…bwahaha). There will be two new characters and some fluff to make up for it though.**

**But on to what you are really here for! \\(^-^)/**

**Last chapter:**

Determined and with the taste of bile on his tongue, Atem sat down and started to set his plan in action. He needed to do this despicable deed, for his people, if for nothing else.

Even though he would most likely spend the rest of his days trying to wash away the irreversible taint it would cause on the very core of his being…

 

**Chapter 8 – Tender fangs**

Atem could barely keep his hand steady, while he wrote down what felt like his own death penalty. If this plan went through, he would be spending the rest of his life, living in excruciating torture…

His own tough demeanor broke under the strain of just moving his feathered quill, to form the unbelievable words on the parchment before him.

Even as he managed to finish the last letters to his own damnation, he felt that it was simply surreal. He couldn’t believe he was doing this to himself and for the first time since his father’s death, he cursed the man for teaching him to be a good ruler…

As the heir to the supreme alpha he had always been told that he had to always think about the welfare of the pack before his own, but right now, he was regretting his upbringing. If ever there was a moment when he wished he was just another wolf, this was it.

Looking at the document before him, he found himself contemplating if it was really worth the price he was going to pay. Right now he could still back out. He could still take his chances on the battle field. He could still run and leave countless people to die, but even in his sudden bought of apprehension that he refused to title as fear, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Damn his sense of loyalty!

Hanging his head low, he ran his hands through his hair, readying himself to take the next step, towards his own downfall…

 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

 

**Meanwhile, somewhere else in the werewolf stronghold**

 

Bakura walked down the winding maze of halls, with a perpetual scowl covering his face. His stiff body posture and the usual glare on his face would be enough to fool most anyone who didn’t know him into thinking he wasn’t in pain, but he knew his mates would see it in an instant.

Fresh wisps of black and purple were already coloring his neck while he could feel the distinct stiffness of a swelling joint around his right shoulder. The little high and mighty princeling had probably shoved him to the ground hard enough to sprain something. To add to this already wonderful feeling, his head felt like a platoon of vampires was marching around inside of it, waging war on what little sanity he considered himself to still possess.

Silent curses continued to fall from his lips in an almost chant like whisper while he tried to think of what he could do next. He was obviously going to avoid Atem like the plague for the next few weeks, but he needed to think of an escape plan. Things were going to hell, fast and he wasn’t going to let his mates stick around for it.

True, his werewolf-mate could hold his own, but he had his other mate to worry about as well. If the vampires got a hold of him, they would do anything to make an example of him and he would rather die or openly betray Atem, than let that happen. Though betraying his alpha would most likely lead to the same thing…

His pain addled thoughts were being anything but cooperative though, and by the time he reached the gated doors of his chambers, he was still coming up blank. The worst part of it was, that he would need to explain himself to his mates and he could already feel the sting of seeing his newer mate in pure terror. A feeling Bakura would not be able to do anything against.

Deciding to just face the music, once again tonight, he used his undamaged arm to unlock and push open the heavy doors. The sound of protesting wood and cast-iron hinges resounded in his already pounding mind, creating another stabbing sensation to his already tormented body.

It wasn’t the first time Atem had lashed out at him. The guy had a bad habit of shooting the messenger, whenever something bad came his way. Since the civil unrests in the pack had started, he’d only gotten worse. Bakura couldn’t really blame him for his temper after all. He himself had been even worse, before he had met his newest lover. Right now he had no idea what was keeping his alpha sane. The council of betas was already plotting against him and trying to force him into a mating. The real idea was to have an heir and get rid of the current ruler so they could place themselves as guardians of the pup. It was part of the reason he was still without a partner at his age, while most of their kind had one or two mates to call their own.

Finally managing to step inside his own chambers, Bakura still held up his stoic demeanor and unwavering facial expression, until the metallic sound of the door returning to its frame came to his ears.

“Bakura?” a soft voice called, from one of the adjacent rooms. Though he was only a spy, being the one who trained everyone else in the deadly art, he received more leeway than others, in particular in regards to the size of his room and the fact that he hadn’t been killed for claiming his newest mate without permission and hiding him within the confines of the caves.

“It’s me” he answered in a gruff voice, slightly limping his way towards the sound, he held himself up against one of the stony walls, while he felt his ribs unnaturally shifting underneath his skin. There was no doubt they had at least been unhinged in some way. The thought of having to have them reset was anything but appealing, especially right now, when he had to be ready to run at a moments’ notice, in case the vampires decided to strike at the heart of the werewolf lands.

When he reached the mouth of the other room, he found both of his mates look up towards him with a slight smile, or as close as they could get, considering his first mates smile was more akin to a wicked smirk at the best of times, before they shifted to rage and concern.

“Oh my gods! What happened?” the younger of the two asked, his white hair dancing behind him as he rushed over to Bakura, with his hands held out towards him, in case he should fall.

Gentle hands brushed over his wounded body, seeking out the damage that had already been done, while Bakura was trying not to flinch as much as the pain was making him want to. He didn’t want to worry his lover more than he already would tonight.

“It was Atem again wasn’t it” another, darker skinned male said with crossed arms. The disapproval was clear in his eyes as he looked over the spy. A jagged, cream colored scar ran down the left side of his face, giving his expression a lethal edge that had the power to make most warriors shiver before him.

A slight grunt was all that Bakura gave him as an answer, though it could have been mistaken for a sound of discomfort, due to the pale man running his searching hands over his bruised ribs.

Worried brown eyes peered up at him, as the younger looking male was seemingly finished with his inspection of his newest battle damage. It was a look he wished he could banish from those doe eyes, but in this time of war, it was something that had taken ahold of all of them. They were all haunted by the thought of just what could happen tomorrow. He found himself asking every morning it there would be another battle. Who would be the one to end them? Would their death be swift or would they be killed in a slow and painful manner? Questions that with his knowledge of the enemies’ new weapon were becoming ever more dreary.

“I’m ok Ryou, I’ve healed from worse” he said, trying to at least alleviate some of the worry from those soulful eyes, while he let a hand glide over his soft, wintery hair. The statement however only served to put a deep frown on his other mates face though…

“You shouldn’t be hurt at all, especially by someone who is supposed to be our protector” the dark voice of the scared male rang out in a growl.

“He had every right to be angry Akefia” Bakura said with a sigh, trying to defuse the situation he knew was bound to come. Akefia was prone to drastic measures whenever he thought one of his mates was put in danger. He had already stood up to Atem once because of him and gotten away with his life by pure luck alone. The chances of that happening a second time, were next to none.

“Right? Right?! He only has his inherited title and nothing else. He may be the supreme alpha, but he has no right to treat you like shit. You’re the best spy he has. And every time you give him some bit of news that the prissy little jack ass doesn’t want to hear, you come back wounded. Someone needs to put him in his place and they need to do it soon” he hissed with fury radiating off of every inch of his body.

“That’s treasonous talk Akefia. Don’t let anyone hear you say that” Bakura answered.

“As if you don’t feel the same” he replied, turning away from his mate.

“You know I do, but we don’t have a choice…”the spy whispered as he looked at their fanged mate, who had stayed silent during their little spat.

Ryou was the reason for their compliance with Atem. It was his life he held over their heads. If one of them should go against him again, he would undoubtedly have him killed off. Unlike them he didn’t hold a high position with the werewolves and he had outrun his usefulness to the alpha a long time ago. His only value had been in what he was and where he had come from, because unlike them he was a vampire.

He had defected to their sides after one of the more brutal genocides that the filthy bloodsuckers had rained down upon them, giving them information on just what the blood council had planned and had told them about the true standing of the vampire king. In doing so he had saved countless lives, but had also forfeit his own. He could never return to his own kind and was regarded as little more than a better prisoner here. Until Bakura and Akefia had met him in an interrogation and later fallen for the fanged male, he had been forced to stay within the confines of the strongholds dungeons. After their mating, he was a prisoner within their chambers, forced to stay within them, or risk being killed off by another wolf at any moment; an action that wouldn’t even be punished, should it happen. Not even the Alpha would object to his murder.

Before Atem had started going off the rails, they had been at the very least good acquaintances, but now they were keeping vital information from him. If the tides turned and he were to fall from his position as leader, they could always hope the person next in line would either end this stupid war or they could flee, because the new alpha would be too busy with the battlefields and defending his own position to come after them.

Should they try to escape now, the chances of them making it off of werewolf territory alive were next to none. Some had already tried that and none had made it out alive.

“It doesn’t mean I can’t wish I can’t at least dream about it” Akefia growled, before crossing his arms and turning his back his werewolf mate or at least that was the impression Bakura received.

A discontent sound came from Ryou’s mouth as he looked over the spies newest wounds. The area on his neck had shaded into different shades of twilight, forming the impression of a hand upon his skin. Though the man wasn’t much darker than the vampire, the contrast was drastically lessoned to a point that had concern openly displayed on the shorter males face.

“Why does he do this?” the smallest male said in a hushed whisper, while his fingers carefully traced the outline of the prominent bruising.

“What got mister high and mighty riled up this time?” Akefia added in a haughty way, even if Bakura could clearly see the undertone of worry in his eyes.

“The vampires have a new weapon on their side”, he told his mates, knowing they could both be trusted to stay silent.

“And? It’s not the first time they have a new weapon they want to use on us. We’ll just come up with a new one ourselves and this sh** will keep on going like it always does” Akefia interjected.

“It’s different this time…They have a werehound on their side” Bakura said, looking at the other wolf just quick enough to see the color visibly drain out of his face.

Though Akefia was one of the best fighters the packs had to offer and tended to be somewhat rash at times, he was still not anywhere insane enough to not see the danger they were now all in. With the entrance of this new beast onto the field, this war was undoubtedly coming towards an end.

The only question was: Would anyone still be alive to talk about it?

 

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

 

**Back in the confines of the vampire castle…**

 

Yami could feel how his muscles relaxed, the second he heard the soft click of his chamber doors closing.

It felt as though he had been through a full day’s worth of bloody battles with nowhere to run. And people expected him to deal with the council on a daily basis?!

Whoever thought that, had never dealt with those men themselves.

Pushing his exhausted body away from the heavily secured, iron doors of his bedroom, the vampire king glanced to the side, where a slightly worried looking silver wolf was still looking at him with concern.

Being part werewolf he was probably much more in tune with what Yami was feeling right now and as a pack member he didn’t want his alpha to have something to worry about. After all, if the alpha was worried, then it could only spell imminent danger for the rest of the pack.

Showing a slight smile the vampire knelt down and softly scratched Yugi behind the ears. In return the slight werehound rubbed his velvety furred head against Yami’s cheek. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to take away the last of the stress that had taken ahold of the noble’s body and mind as he thought over everything he had just accomplished.

He had, for the second time in his life, stood up to the council and won. It had taken a good deal of underhanded thinking, but he had managed to maybe save an entire race in just one night. The only problem he faced now was figuring out how to keep the werehounds, who would likely come seeking sanctuary, from being used by said men.

The promise of using them as a means to slaughter their enemy was only a way to get the power hungry men to agree to what he had to say. Yami never intended to let them actually face a battle if he could help it. Not to mention, that letting them anywhere near a fight could be devastating for everyone…

As far as he knew, stress could be the cause of them loosing themselves to the bloody rampage that their kind was known for and a bunch of werehounds out for blood was the last thing he needed. Not to mention that he had left his council thinking that he had figured out a way to keep them sane. He didn’t even want to imagen how they would react, when they found out that it wasn’t true…

“Yugi…you can turn back into your humanoid form now” Yami said, as he breathed in the scent of clean moonlight coming from the silver fur beneath his fingers.

Instead of the sound of shifting, the vampire only heard the sound of a discontent whine.

“You don’t want to turn back?” the royal asked, unsure as to why Yugi wouldn’t want to turn back into his more mobile form. It couldn’t be because of his lack of clothing. He hadn’t shown any sign of being uncomfortable when he had first shifted, so why was he reluctant now?

Yugi just shook his head, which the vampire chose to interpret as a no.

“You like staying in your werehound form?”

Instead of another headshake the smaller male gave a slight whine, while he avoided looking at Yami at all costs.

Reaching out and gently forcing Yugi to meet his eyes, the crimson eyed youth searched deep within the pools of silver amethyst to try and find an answer to his question, but all he saw there was the emotion of pain, uncertainty and a hint of self-loathing.

At first Yami had no idea what could have caused the young werehounds emotions to shift so quickly, until he remembered where he had seen that look before…Joey.

It was the same look the otherwise temperamental werewolf had, whenever his bloodline or birth-pack was mentioned. Though he outwardly always reacted violently, whenever someone mentioned his tormented past, there was the same look in his eyes, deeply hidden under a thick layer of rage and pain.

Joey had vast memories of all the pain his father and the rest of his pack had caused him. The ultimate betrayal of his pack had enacted upon him, had caused him to mistrust just about anyone and even if he denied it, he also kept asking himself if, even the smallest part of him had been at fault for what his supposed family had done to him.

Other packs never treated their members that badly, unless they had done something horribly wrong, so there had to be a reason, right? But much like with other cases, Joey would never receive a satisfying answer, because there was no answer to give. Some people were just that cruel…

If the wire around Yugi’s neck had been any indication, the young wolf had been through the same, if not worse torture. His unwillingness to change back to his human form drew up a memory of a particular detail from the older wolfs past.

In one of his more macabre, sentimental moments Joey had mentioned how he had once been force to stay in a cramped cage, made out of razor sharp, silver wire that he could only just fit in, in his wolf form. It was a form of double punishment.

Staying in one form too long was extremely painful for a shifter, but shifting inside one of those cages would kill any werewolf unfortunate enough to be inside, due to the consequential contact with the blade like silver wires.

As far as he knew, someone could have forced Yugi to stay in his werehound form, or he could simply feel more comfortable that way. He still knew so little about the younger male that it was unsettling how comfortable he felt around him, but Yami also knew that he couldn’t push Yugi for answers, or he would most likely shut down on him. So he would just have to take what little information he could get.

“It’s ok…you can stay in whatever form you want” he said, slowly letting go of Yugi’s muzzle.

The younger male gave a small bark and once again rubbed his head against Yami’s cheek, his tail wagging profusely, almost knocking the unsuspecting vampire over in his enthusiasm.

Giving the wolf another affectionate pat on the head, the king stood and walked towards his four poster bed, while letting his cumbersome, red cape fall to the carpeted floor, before letting himself slump onto his plush bed, face first. The weight of it leaving his shoulders seemed so much more significant in that moment than it usually did, but then again, it had been an unusually hard night.

Hearing a confused yip from his freshly appointed bodyguard Yami looked at the silver wolf, only to see his face tilted to the side in question, while amethyst eyes roamed around the room, apparently searching for something.

Trying to come up with what the younger male could be looking for Yami noticed how he was looking at the bed and around it.

“That’s right… we need to find a place for you to sleep” he said, while sitting up on the edge of the bed.

Perking up at the statement the young werehound wagged his tail, which caused the king to give him a rare smile. Thinking about where he could let him sleep, the vampire looked towards one of the doors that branched off of his bedroom. There was a room that was just outside of his, but still within the confines of his chambers. It was meant for his personal guard, so whoever that happened to be at the time could reach him easily if there was something wrong, while it still made it to where assassins would have to get by that person first to get to Yami.

If he gave Yugi that room he would be fulfilling his duty, as far as anyone knew. It wouldn’t look awkward if the younger male slept in his rooms that way and he would still be safe from anything his meddling council could come up with. It was a perfect fit.

“You can sleep in the room reserved for my personal guard. It’s the room on the left we just walked by” Yami said.

The vampire didn’t see anything wrong with that offer, but the second he had uttered those words, Yugi’s tail fell motionless towards the ground. His ears folded back against his head, as he looked up at the vampire king with wide eyes. The look within them spoke of pure hurt and betrayal. It was an expression that even a kicked puppy would have problems competing with.

A slight form of panic broke out within Yami’s blood as the full force of that look hit him. What had he done wrong?! The king’s mind was reeling frantically, as he turned and sat up, searching for an answer to what horrible thing he could have done to warrant such an expression.

“Uhmm…you don’t have to sleep there if you don’t want to…” he said, hoping to high heavens that it was what had upset the young werehound. There was no way the vampire could take those hurt looking eyes for much longer!

“Is there somewhere you would like to sleep?”

As soon as the sentence had been uttered silver, fluffy ears perked up and Yugi gave a quick glance towards the big bed in the room, before he shyly pawed at the floor, effectively avoiding looking at the older male. Even if it was quick, it was long enough for Yami to understand just what the young wolf was asking for. It was a request that dusted his otherwise pale skin in a faint pink hew.

He was asking to sleep in the same bed with him!

An image of Yugi standing in his office, covered by only the scarce beams of moonlight came to his mind. He had been captured by the mere sight of the beautiful male and now he was asking, if he could sleep in the same bed with him?!

Yami could already feel the effects of the memory coursing through his blood, as the situation was doing nothing to hinder his rampant imagination. He had only known the wolf for a short amount of time and had barely exchanged a few words with him, but he was already feeling the urge to just burry his face in Yugi’s moonlight fur and breath in his wild scent, while his clawed fingers ran through it.

The royal tried to push off his attraction to the young wolf, by convincing himself that it had to be due to the fact that he had yet to take a mate. He was well past the age where his kind usually took a lover or sought out a mate. Yami was anything but a wall-flower, but after having gone through two failed relationships, where he had only been used or seen as a trophy, he just couldn’t bring himself to try again. It just had to be due to that. Nothing else made sense. He didn’t want anything else to make sense.

Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts, running through his head, he heard a slight shift of fur and a sad whiny coming from the object his mind seemed to circle around. When he opened his eyes, he saw Yugi lying on his stomach, hiding his muzzle under his paws. He looked like a dog waiting to be chastised for chewing on its owner’s shoes.

Yami had no idea what had brought on the sudden change in the younger male, until he remembered what he had just done. He had shaken his head and apparently Yugi had taken that as a denial of his request.

“Hey. I didn’t meant that as a no Yugi” he comforted, making those amethyst colored orbs peak out from under crossed paws, “I-If you want…you can sleep on my bed as well” he stuttered out, trying his best to not imply anything other than sleeping.

The words had barely been spoken, before an ecstatic ball of fur launched itself at Yami, knocking the vampire clean off his feet and onto his bed. By the time the king had registered what had happened, he found himself sprawled out on top of his covers, with a silver wolf pinning him down in a rather suggestive way.

Cool amethyst eyes peered down at him, creating a stark contrast to the warm breath that ghosted over his neck. A sliver of an emotion ran down the royals’ body, as a pale, rosy hue colored his skin. If it was from the warm scent of Yugi’s fur, or the blood rushing through his veins, fueled by illicit thoughts, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t bring himself to try and move the younger male off of him; even if he had wanted too.

Hot breath ghosted over the flesh of his pale neck like the warm caress of a lover, as Yugi leaned in closer to him, while those entrancing eyes still held his gaze. Yami could almost feel the first hairs touching his now oversensitive skin, his hands involuntarily gripping the sheets in a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, if he wanted whatever was to come. With the young wolf there was no telling what he could do next. The king knew that werewolves were anything but prude about their intimate lives and would often seek out partners, simply for pleasure, though things like that were frowned upon by his kind.

Did he want to give in? Did he really want to be just some one time lover? He couldn’t deny that he felt attracted to Yugi, but he still had his set belief of being together with someone, before it comes to something like that…no matter how tempting the prospect was.

The vampires brooding thoughts were shattered, as the younger male shocked him back into reality, with a wet lick across his exposed cheek and the underside of his chin, quickly followed by Yugi rubbing his head against Yami’s neck, as if there were no tomorrow. It was a simple show of gratitude towards an Alpha.

In that instant, the noble had no idea, weather to feel grossed out, due to being covered in K9-slobber, adore the cuteness of the action, or be disappointed that this was all he was getting and at the fact, that the actions that had tormented him just moments ago had been purely innocent.

“Ok, ok! That’s enough Yugi”, Yami half laughed out, while he carefully pushed the playful Pup off of him and managing to sit up again, “Just let me get ready for bed so we can both sleep…I’m guessing you want to sleep in your wolf form?”

A swift tail wag gave him enough answer. Normally he would demand that Yugi at least bath, so he wouldn’t drag whatever dirt was on him into the bed, but he was nowhere near awake enough to think of that right now and in light of everything that had happened, he could afford to let it slip for today. The sun was rising up and he just wanted to sleep the stress away.

Seeing the wolf playfully jump onto the covers and roll around on them, Yami ducked into his bathing chambers and quickly went through his normal rituals, while he simply threw most of his clothing on the floor. By the time he came back into his bedroom, dressed only in a loose pair of pants, Yugi had laid his head on his paws and was looking at him expectantly.

The king just went to the other side of the bed and curled up under the covers, fully expecting himself to fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow, but instead he found a sudden warmth settled against his stomach and chest. Opening his eyes as far as his exhaustion would allow, Yami saw Yugi pressed firmly against his front, with another uncertain look on his face. A tired smile graced the vampires’ features, before he laid one arm over Yugi’s chest, with one single thought in mind as he felt the soft fur under his arm: ‘He would sleep well tonight’….

 

**I just think this scene is so cute! Yugi and Yami cuddling as they fall asleep! (Fangirl scream and faint!).**

**Anyway... Next chapter will definitely reveal Atems plot and you can see how the vampires and the wolves react to it. (Drama!)**

**Thank you all for being patient (or just not proving me otherwise) and I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please R &R! It reminds me that I should be writing ^-^**


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